A Tale Of Two
by simplymoshingintomordor
Summary: TMI/TID crossover. After yet another set of failed relationships, Clary and her flatmate Tessa have just about had enough of men. Determined not to be let down again, they make a pact to stay single and spend Valentine's together instead. At least, that's the plan. Unfortunately, their new neighbours - the Herondale boys - have plans of their own... AH/AU
1. Dumpings

**Wow. Hello. So on the 19th July 2013, I returned to fanfiction after four years and uploaded a chapter called 'Trying not to kill Jonathan' for a fic called Battle of the Bands. I was nervous beyond belief and didn't know what to expect. All I could hope for at the time was that _someone_ out there would give it a try. Even just one person. Now, a whole year and _half a million _views later, BotB has become the biggest project I've ever completed. I could never thank the people who helped me get there enough and now, this fic is dedicated to you all.**

**'A Tale of Two' is essentially a crossover between The Mortal Instruments and my personal favourites, The Infernal Devices, but for now I'm going to post it under TMI since most of you said you check that more often, and then I'll change it a bit later. It follows Tessa and Clary as they battle (there's always got to be a battle, right?) between love, loyalty and the craziest circumstances I can throw at them. There will be twists and drama and all the good stuff too, but I've got it even more meticulously planned out than BotB was, so there'll be random hints and things to consider later dotted throughout. Another thing to consider is that though this fic is T-rated, it will be pushing the boundaries more than my other stuff. All of the characters are either in university or have already graduated. Since the drinking age in the UK is 18, that means they're all legal, whether or not they choose to drink. Just thought I'd clear that up.**

**Thank you to those of you who have stuck with me so far and if you're new, first of all - WELCOME. Second of all, fasten your seatbelts. I hope you enjoy this as much (if not more) than my previous work. I also thought I'd mention that a lot of the events in this fic have been inspired by true events. I'll mention them as we go. Let's go.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own TMI, TID or any of their characters. But if I could buy one, it'd be Will.**

* * *

_**A Tale Of Two… **_

**Dumpings**

_14th January_

Tessa didn't consider herself a prude.

In fact, she rather detested the word. She didn't understand why having a 'two-week rule' or resisting until she knew her respective partner well enough was necessarily a bad thing.

After all, hand-holding was a serious affair. Hand-holding indicated affection; it indicated intimacy; it indicated _commitment. _So why should she be chastised for withholding such an act until she was absolutely convinced that she wanted to be with someone?

No, she didn't consider herself a prude.

She considered herself a _lady._

A lady who should be treated with the utmost respect and would behave so as to earn that. Boundaries were healthy. Boundaries helped keep order. And there were few things Tessa liked more than order.

Unfortunately, not everyone saw it her way.

She was tall and pretty and carried the air of mystery that would attract most boys to the chase, but it was never enough to keep them running. She'd had more first dates than she could count on her fingers, but in the four years since she'd become open to relationships, only two in total had made it past the fortnight mark.

The first was Axel Mortmain.

She'd met him in her first year of university, the brown-haired boy whose dorm room was opposite hers in the hall. He was a second year himself and was more than happy to offer her advice on picking her courses and helping her settle in to life away from home.

Of course, she'd been fairly independent already. Having lived with her maternal great-grandfather - Aloysius Starkweather - in his lonely Yorkshire mansion since she was ten, she was well used to entertaining herself. He was a pale, archaic man who looked like he'd seen too many centuries, but he was proud and took it upon himself to instil the same values in Tessa that his parents had taught him.

When Tessa had politely declined Axel's further romantic advances, it was these values that he'd called into question.

"You're not a ninety-year old man," he'd huffed at her, finally breaking it off. Their relationship had lasted all of fifteen days. Once he'd realised her two-week rule really wasn't for what he'd expected, he'd bailed. "And just so you know, Queen Victoria isn't on the throne anymore. It's Elizabeth now. _Elizabeth._"

Their parting argument had taken place from their respective dorm rooms, so almost everyone living on their floor had gathered in the hall to watch the pair of them yelling across at each other.

"That's Her Majesty to you!" Tessa had screamed, her patriotism the only thing that could truly incite her to passion. That and literature.

"Oh, I do apologise!" Axel bowed sarcastically. "I guess I just got so used to waiting on you hand and foot that I forgot another monarch actually existed. The whole world might as well bow down to you instead of dear old Liz. Lose the Zimmer-frame Theresa and then maybe I'll let you have another shot at this." He gestured at himself then slammed the door.

More angered by his words about the monarchy – which she thought of as akin to treason – than his slating of her own character, Tessa never spoke to him again.

After that, it'd taken a while before she was comfortable enough to begin dating again. Rumours of her frigidity were running rampant in the student housing and almost every single guy wanted the chance to break her. In fact, it took her two whole years before she entered into her second, and most serious relationship.

James Carstairs was kind and sensitive. He was the sort of man you'd introduce to your family and they'd end up loving him even more than you. He didn't mind her working at Luke's bookstore in the afternoons, or staying later at campus to catch up on her dissertation. He didn't mind her rules and her conditions. In fact, he adored her so much that he'd probably have been content just to be in her company for a year before their first kiss. As it happened, he'd only had to wait two months. Jem understood that Tessa's upbringing was important to her and didn't demand to be anything other than what she could give him.

After three months together, Tessa even thought she might have loved him.

So when he paced back and forth in front of her that day, running nervous hands through his tousled silver hair, her heart stopped. He was always so calm, always smiling. This jittery, tense man didn't remind her of the carefree boy she'd met at the Classical music society all that time ago.

She knew that look on his face.

So many people had looked at her that way before. Usually, it wouldn't take them three months to get to it, but now her Jem wore it all the same. Still, she didn't allow herself to believe it. Maybe this time it would be different. Jem was different. He didn't want what most boys wanted. He cared for Tessa. For _her_ and not what she could do for him.

"Tessa, I'm leaving," he said, and the brief glimmer of hope submerged itself.

"L-Leaving?" She stuttered, trying to stay calm. Leaving could mean any number of things. Perhaps he was going to visit his uncle for the weekend? Or, just leaving to do some last minute food shopping?

He'd been at rehearsals all day, after all. It was perfectly plausible.

"Yes," he nodded. He eyed her cautiously. "For a few months."

"Months?" Her voice rose a couple of octaves.

Maybe he was going shopping in Nepal?

On foot.

She gripped her hands behind her back.

"You see, there's someone else."

"Oh."

Not Nepal, then.

Tessa felt as if someone had just shot an arrow into the back of her knee. He might as well have declared himself in favour of a republic.

"I'm sorry, Tessa. I'm so sorry. I tried holding back for so long, hoping to take a different direction in life, but like a sweet siren, she called to me and I was lost. I can't stop thinking about her," Jem gazed into the air wistfully. "Her smooth curves. Her tender voice. The way she fits to me so perfectly."

Tessa didn't know what to say.

She was mortified.

Had Jem already cheated on her?

Jem, the boy who still asked permission before every kiss. It was so unlike him.

Yes, it's possible he'd found someone else. There'd always be someone with browner hair, or bluer eyes. Whiter teeth or plumper lips. Someone who didn't spend half the day with their nose in a book. Someone better.

But she was sure he'd never deliberately hurt her like that.

How could someone so gentle be so callous?

"And that's why I'm leaving," he continued. "I'm joining the orchestra so I can fully devote myself to her."

"What?!" Tessa yelled, unable to keep herself composed any longer. Aloysius would have been shocked at her outburst, but she couldn't think of anything but the growing red haze behind her eyes. "Is that where you met her?"

"No, of course not." Jem seemed slightly taken aback by the aggression in her tone. "My parents introduced her to me, you know that. The orchestra just introduced me to so many others like her."

Tessa's head was spinning.

"How many of them are there?!"

"I'm not sure, ten. Maybe, eleven."

"Eleven?" She breathed, her legs finally giving in as she collapsed to the floor.

"It's a decent-sized orchestra. Not like the one they have at university."

Tessa couldn't help it. Though showing emotional weakness was the one thing she despised the most, she started to cry.

"Tessa?" Jem looked down with concern. "Tessa, why are you so upset? I thought you knew how much I loved her?"

"I don't even know who she is!" Tessa gasped between sobs. This had to be some sort of nightmare. There was no way this could be real. James Carstairs could not be leaving her for some harem of orchestral girls.

"Of course you do!" Jem's eyes widened. "You've seen her so many times!"

"What?"

"Jade!" He cried, now looking rather distraught himself. "Are you telling me you don't remember Jade?"

"No, I don't bloody remember..." Tessa looked up suddenly. A part of her was appalled at her use of obscenities, but the rest of her just really couldn't give a shit. "Jade? As in..." No, surely not. "Your violin, Jade?"

"Yes, my violin!" Jem threw his hands up. "Jade! The one my parents gave me."

Tessa didn't know what to think.

"So let me get this straight, you're leaving me...for a violin?"

"Why else did you think I was joining the orchestra?"

"I thought..." She shook her head, trying to make sense of it all. This did seem more plausible than him being some sort of orchestral pimp, but that didn't mean it was rational either. "I don't know what I thought."

"Did you think there was literally someone else?"

"Maybe," Tessa admitted. "But in my defence, you didn't exactly make it very clear!"

"I told you I was joining the orchestra!" Jem insisted, definitely a little upset now.

Tessa let out a small laugh, despite herself. Sweet, harmless Jem. Of course it couldn't have occurred to him how she might take it the wrong way. He loved his violin more than anything. She'd known she would always play second fiddle to Jade.

But that he would actually leave her for it...

"Look, Tessa," Jem kneeled down to sit beside her. His deep grey eyes were sincere as he took her hands in his own. In this light, they almost looked silver. "You know I wouldn't do this if I didn't think I absolutely had to. The orchestra leaves tomorrow for their national tour and if I don't go with them, I may have missed my chance for good. I really like you, Tessa, this doesn't change that. But I'm not going to ask you to wait for me."

"But I will!" Tessa shifted their clasped hands so she could twine her fingers through his, that small spark of hope taking hold again. Maybe she didn't have to lose him. Not this time. "I will wait as long as it takes! I don't want anyone but you, Jem."

"I appreciate that," Jem smiled. "But I wasn't lying, I'm really not going to ask you to wait. I don't want you to wait. You see, I can't divide myself in two either. Jade and the Silent Brothers require my whole attention. I won't be with any other girl, but I can't be with you either. The arch of Jade's mahogany back is the only one that interests me at the moment."

"God, Jem..." Tessa groaned, shuddering internally at the implication. She wouldn't be surprised if his relationship with his violin was romantic after all, considering the way he always spoke of it. It certainly seemed more intimate than their own.

"So you understand," Jem nodded, clearly misunderstanding. "That's good. I'm glad we could part on amicable terms."

Tessa wasn't glad. She wasn't glad at all. In fact, it felt like some secondary school student had ripped her heart of out her chest and used it in some crude biology experiment, but as Jem proceeded to whip out Jade and play a farewell tune for her, she felt more resigned than anything else.

-o-O-o-

Clary was sure she was ready.

As she carefully arranged the candles around the living room, she imagined how the evening would proceed.

Raphael Santiago, her hot, foreign, second-year boyfriend would saunter in through the door, his shirt almost entirely unbuttoned. His eyes would light up as they fell on Clary's tight-fitting black dress and he'd pull her up against him and kiss her like they hadn't seen each other in a month.

Except, that part was sort of true.

They literally hadn't seen each other in a month.

They'd been flirting back and forth for a few weeks before the end of the Christmas term, but it was only in that last week that he'd finally asked her out. They only had five days together since he was going back to Spain for the holidays, but they were five of the most exciting days of Clary's life.

You see, since the moment she'd started university last October, all she'd wanted was a boyfriend.

She was finally living on her own and out from the clutches of her parents, and most importantly, her brother.

Jonathan never particularly cared for what Clary got up to, but unfortunately, she couldn't quite pull herself away from his shadow. It was silly and childish and she couldn't understand why people even believed it anymore, but since the French exchange student Sebastian Verlac had been caught arguing with him and was never seen again, the entire town had been convinced that Jonathan had something to do with his disappearance.

What they didn't consider was the obvious. He'd simply returned to France.

But no, the minds of teenagers were crazy and complex and the fact that she'd unwittingly gotten caught up in the whole situation hadn't helped. Before Sebastian had left, he'd asked her for some help with his art homework and as she'd finished, he'd given her a peck on both of her cheeks. Clary had no problem with it. After all, she knew her European neighbours were far more affectionate and besides, Sebastian was rather good looking. The only issue was that he'd done it in the canteen, with half the school looking on.

Most of the students were completely unaware of the fact that Sebastian knew Jonathan outside of school. In fact, the Fray-Morgensterns were his host family. It's just that Jonathan was so embarrassed by the whole prospect that he'd taken to walking to school instead of travelling with Sebastian, so no one could have known that the real reason they were arguing that day is because Sebastian had accidentally worn a pair of Jonathan's boxers.

Instead, they'd jumped to the conclusion that he was furious at the other boy for touching his little sister and since Jonathan didn't feel the need to clarify the situation, he hadn't contested it.

After that, the rumours had spread like wildfire. Every person she spoke to had a different theory about what Jonathan had done to the poor boy. Some claimed he'd sacrificed him as part of some sort of demonic ritual, while others said he'd forced Sebastian to get plastic surgery so he looked exactly like Jonathan – thereby removing any prospect of a relationship with Clary – and that he sent him in to school sometimes in his place. Each week a new and even wackier rumour would surface and Clary suspected that some of them may even have been planted by Jonathan himself.

In fact, he was getting quite the kick out of it all. He was notorious and that was just the way he liked it. Girls loved bad boys and everyone else just feared him.

It was Clary who lost out.

People had become so afraid of Jonathan that despite how interested Clary may have been, no boy would dare to return her affections lest they suffer the same fate as the Verlac kid.

And so she'd spent the majority of her teenage years miserably alone, just waiting for the sweet release of higher education. She'd even gone a step further and changed her name, just in case people still associated her with Jonathan. It wasn't anything drastic, mind, but enough so that people wouldn't think they were related.

She'd always thought her double-barrelled surname sounded pretentious, so she actually preferred being known as just Clary Fray, rather than Fray-Morgenstern. It worked even more in her favour that Jonathan had done the same, but he'd kept the Morgenstern part.

Short, ginger Clary Fray and tall, white-blonde Jonathan Morgenstern.

Who would even suspect they shared the same blood?

As long as her parents didn't find out, it was the perfect move.

And now, it was time to reap her reward.

Tonight, Clary would finally lose her virginity.

She almost dropped one of the candles as her doorbell rang. Tessa would kill her if she found out she was wielding open flames in the flat, but she was at Jem's and Clary hoped that she'd stay there. This was her window.

She smoothed down her dress as she pressed on the intercom.

"Yes?"

"Clary?" Raphael's voice sounded from the other end. "It's me."

"Oh, Raphael!" She laughed, trying to sound nonchalant. "Is it nine already? I completely lost track of the time."

Of course, she wouldn't tell him that she'd been checking her watch every two minutes since the clock had struck twelve.

"So, err…it's pretty cold out here."

"Ah yes! Sorry, how forgetful of me. I'll buzz you in."

She moved back from the intercom and ran into the bathroom to check that her hair was still in place. Her curls fell loosely about her shoulders, but she'd managed to somewhat tame them with anti-frizz.

There was a knock at the door.

He was here.

"Coming!" She squeaked, moving to hide the wax strips she'd left by the sink. "Oh no!"

Clary ran into the bedroom and grabbed her pair of heels, forcing herself into them as she hopped over to the front door. She took a deep breath as she straightened up and pulled the door open.

"Clarissa," Raphael smiled, then his eyes widened as they travelled down the length of her body. She shivered, though if it was from the way his tongue rolled when he said her name or the way he was looking at her now, she couldn't tell. Maybe a bit of both.

"Raphael," she smirked, letting him appreciate her hard work before she forced his gaze upward. "I've missed you."

She moved in for a hug, now almost his height in her six-inch heels.

"Uh, yes," he mumbled, wrapping his arms around her waist. "Look, Clary…"

"I made dinner!" She exclaimed, pulling him towards the kitchen. "Pizza. You like pizza, right? Oh, what am I saying? Of course you like pizza! Who doesn't like pizza?!" She knew she was rambling but the full extent of the situation was beginning to dawn on her. She'd waited for so long and now tonight…tonight everything would change. "Or would you like to sit down first?" Clary froze in her tracks and began to nudge him towards the living room instead. "You must be so tired, yes. And we have a lot to catch up on."

"Clary…"

"How about a drink?"

"Yeah," he nodded slowly. "Okay. I could use a drink."

"Right, good! That's good. You go and make yourself comfortable and I'll come straight back." She grinned at him and let him walk into the living room before she ran back to the kitchen.

"Breathe, Clary," she told herself, gripping the counter. She forced herself to take slow, steady breaths as she began to calm down.

She was prepared. Ready. There was no need to panic.

It had been a while since she'd seen him and things seemed a little awkward, yes, but they'd warm up again in no time. They'd made out plenty of times before the holidays. Intimacy wasn't a problem.

This was what she wanted.

"This is what I want," she said, resolutely. "Snap out of it, woman. You have an incredibly gorgeous, funny guy sitting over there waiting for you. He wants a drink. Just get him a drink."

She steeled herself and grabbed a bottle of wine from the fridge. Taking out two glasses, she poured herself a little first, downed it, then prepared Raphael's. Filling up one more in case she needed a confidence booster later, she grabbed the two glasses and carried them to the living room.

She smiled at herself as she noticed that her hands weren't even shaking.

Raphael was sprawled across the sofa, looking very much at home. He looked up lazily as she entered the room and took the glass from her.

"So," Clary said, taking a seat next to him. "How was…"

"Actually," he interrupted her. "Can I go first?"

"Sure," she nodded, trying to hide her relief. She was sure he was far more experienced than her. In fact, _any_ experience at all would count for more than the sketchy knowledge she'd picked up from YA novels and fanfiction.

"Clarissa," he said, rolling the 'r' the way she liked it. "We've had some fun together, haven't we?"

"Well, yes. Lots of fun, I think."

"And those jokes you texted me over the break," he hesitated. "They were good."

"Oh, I can't take credit for those!" She blushed. "Simon sent them to me so I just passed them on to you and…"

"Yes, I gathered," he interrupted her again. He took a sip of his drink before he continued. "And what about the texts I sent you?"

"The pictures?" Clary reached absentmindedly for her phone, before realising she'd left it in the kitchen. Raphael had sent her various shots from the sunny shores of Spain. "They were wonderful. I'd love to visit Spain someday. Ooh, maybe you could take me?"

"Err…sure." Raphael suddenly looked very uncomfortable. "But the pictures...you thought they were okay?"

"Why wouldn't they be?"

"I wasn't always alone."

"Well, it's a beach, silly! I wouldn't expect you to be alone," she rolled her eyes. "That would just be sad."

"Right," he looked about himself. Anywhere but at her. "So you didn't mind that I was there with other girls?"

"Of course not! One of my best friends is a guy," Clary chuckled, nudging Raphael playfully. "I'm the last person who wouldn't understand you can have platonic friendships with the opposite sex."

"So you assumed they were my friends?"

"Oh, were they strangers? That's fine too. I'm always taking selfies with people I've just met."

"Okay, I'm just going to have to spit this out it seems." He rose to his feet, causing Clary to do the same.

"What's wrong, Raph?"

"Clary," he inhaled deeply. "I'm breaking up with you."

"What?" She laughed once. A breathless, disbelieving laugh. "Is this is a joke?"

"No, it's not a joke." He took a step back, putting his wine down. "I thought maybe we had a good thing going, and we did, for a while. But then I met up with some of the girls I used to date back home and I realised…"

"They were your exes?!" Clary gasped, bringing her free hand up to her mouth. The other still clutched her own wine glass. She had noticed how close he'd been to the girls in the pictures, but she'd been so unwilling to believe he'd ever cheat on her that she'd passed them off as friends.

"…that being with you wasn't the same. You're a nice girl, Clary. But you're not my type."

"Not your type?" Her mouth dropped open. The initial shock was beginning to wear off. Now she was just mad. She'd been sitting here just waiting for him, while he'd been off canoodling with tall, dark-haired beauties with breasts the size of small countries. If _that_ was his type then what had he been playing at even _glancing _at Clary? She was the complete opposite. "So what was I? Just some sort of hobby to keep you busy away from home? The Pitiful Ginger society?"

"Of course not," he said, but he backed up even more. He was almost at the doorway to the hall now. "I loved talking to you at first."

"At _first_?"

"You were wild, exciting. Like nothing I've ever seen before."

"I can see that…" She snapped, thinking back to the photos he'd sent her.

"We were doing fine until I realised-"

"What?" She shouted before he could finish his sentence. "You realised what?"

"You're just a little…mild salsa. That's all."

"Mild salsa?!" She yelled, completely aghast. Coming from him, she knew what an insult that was.

"Exactly," he nodded. "Not for me, personally, but I'm sure you'd do just fine with people of blander taste."

"Mild salsa," Clary repeated again to herself. The wine glass shook in her hands. "Fine, you want mild salsa? I'll give you mild salsa!"

Then she threw the contents of her glass all over him.

Raphael reacted just a second too late and watched in horror as the red wine soaked through his white shirt.

"Clary, what the hell?"

"What's wrong, Raph? Was that not mild enough for you?"

Then she reached behind herself to pick up the glass he'd put down, and before Raphael could make it to the front door, she propelled the liquid all over him. He yelped again and fumbled with the handle.

"Crazy," he mumbled. "Crazy Fray."

"What was that? I didn't quite hear you." Clary laughed, realising he hadn't thought to open the deadlock first. She moved back to the kitchen as he groaned in frustration. "Hey, Raphael. Are you sure you don't want to stay for pizza?"

He ignored her.

"Too bad, because pizza definitely wants to stay for you." Then she came up behind him just as he figured out he had to undo the deadlock. With deadly precision she lobbed a slice at him and smiled in triumph as it smeared down his back, just as he managed to pry the door open.

"CRAZY FRAY!" Raphael shrieked, clutching at his hair. He ducked through the door as she prepared to throw another slice and began to run down the stairs. "CRAZY FRAY!"

"ADIEU, MY LOVE!" Clary bellowed, managing to land the final slice on his head as he turned towards the next set of stairs. Living on the top floor had its perks sometimes.

Then she slammed the door shut and slumped to the floor against it, not caring that the wine was beginning to seep through her own dress. "Adieu, my love."

-o-O-o-

An hour later, that's where Tessa found her.

She'd been trying to get through the door, before realising that something was blocking it.

"Clary?" She tried to fit her head through the gap she'd managed to create. "Clary?"

"It's Crazy, now," the girl below her replied. "Crazy Fray."

Tessa noticed with concern how Clary was leaning against the door, her eyes focussed straight ahead and streaks of black mascara running down her face.

"Don't be silly," she rolled her eyes. "Let me in, Clarissa."

"I'm not being silly," Clary laughed. A creepy, detached laugh. "I'm being crazy. Crazy Fray."

Tessa was almost scared. At least, if she didn't know of Clary's love for dramatics, she would have been.

"Okay, Clary. I'm going to come in now. Just stay right there." She stopped herself at the ridiculousness of what she'd just said, before sliding the door open slowly. Clary weighed little so she didn't put up much resistance as Tessa let herself in. She kneeled down in front of her so she couldn't look away.

"What happened?"

"Raphael called me crazy." She didn't sound quite as lifeless as she'd done a second ago. Now that Tessa was here, it was as if she were fighting back tears. "Oh, and he broke up with me."

"Oh, Clary." Tessa opened up her arms and let Clary collapse into them, the tears coming hard and fast. "If he can't see how amazing you are, then he's the crazy one. Someone better will come along. Someone who deserves you. You're better off without him."

"That's easy for you to say," Clary choked out between sobs. "You have Jem. He'd never say you were mild salsa."

"Well, actually," Tessa gulped.

"What?" Clary looked up at once. "Jem called you mild salsa too?"

"Not exactly," Tessa looked away. "In fact, I'm not sure I know quite what that means. But…I don't have him anymore."

"You broke up with him?" Clary's green eyes were wide with horror. "I thought you loved Jem!"

"I…don't know. I don't know if I loved him. But it doesn't matter, because he's the one who broke up with me." Tessa finished the rest in a hurry before Clary could interrupt again. "He said he wanted to join the Silent Brothers orchestra and that he couldn't devote himself to the both of us. So he left. They go on tour tomorrow."

"I'm so sorry, Tessa," she breathed. "I can't believe he'd do that to you."

"It's okay, I understand."

"But you shouldn't have to!" Now Clary was angry again. She rose to her feet and pulled Tessa up with her. Despite the fact that she hadn't taken off her heels, Clary was still shorter than Tessa in her flats. "It's not fair. We're always the ones that get hurt. Always! We're the ones they never like back in the first place or leave for someone better. They shouldn't be allowed to do this to us."

"It's not anyone's fault," Tessa tried to reason weakly, still sullen. "It's just one of those things. That's life."

"Well, I don't like it!" Clary moved past her to the living room and began to gather up the candles.

"Clary what are you…" Tessa stopped as she entered the living room. "Candles?! Clary you know we're not allowed open flames in the flat."

"This is important," she said, sorting them into a circle shape on the coffee table. "Sit down."

"Clary…"

"Just sit down." Clary gestured for her to sit on the opposite side of the table. Tessa made sure to take off her shoes before she sat down on the fluffy, white carpet. "What is this?"

"We're going to make a pact. I'm tired of being let down by men. Absolutely exhausted. We both hoped next month would be our first Valentine's with a boyfriend. A real boyfriend. But why? Why do we need a guy to make ourselves feel better? Why can't we enjoy Valentine's on our own? Or even better, together?"

"What are you saying?" Tessa sounded apprehensive.

"No more men. No more dates. For the next month, we're going to stay one hundred percent single. No disappointment. No more."

Then Clary laid her hands out on either side of the circle of candles, as if the ritual would solidify their pact.

"So tell me, Theresa Gray. Will you be my Valentine?"

Tessa hesitated, but it was more because of the idea of being in such close proximity with fire. She was hurt over Jem and she was sure she'd feel that way for a while, but it was good to know there were some people you couldn't lose. Men were unpredictable. So was Clary, but not in the same way. She'd never let her down. Never let her feel unimportant. A girl's night out with her sounded…well, perfect.

Finally, she straightened up and nodded, taking Clary's hands.

"Yes, Clarissa Fray. I'll be your Valentine."

* * *

**Of course, it was never going to be that easy.**

**Next chapter, cue their new neighbours...**

**Just to clarify, a flat is what we call an apartment in the UK and probably other places too. I know some people got confused a while ago when I was talking about my flatmates. They're like housemates, but living in a flat. Because we poor students can't afford houses in London :P**

**So, what did you all think!? If you have the time to leave me a review, I'd really appreciate it. Seeing the hits go up is great, but you can't always gauge how people are reacting to your work that way. Especially in the beginning. So yeah, please let me know. I'm still getting through replies to my other stories so if I haven't gotten back to some of you yet, I'm getting there. Promise.**

**I haven't got a set schedule for updating just yet, but I'm going to be aiming at about once a week. I'll give you more info as and when I have it. **

**Thanks for reading guys! It's good to be back.**

**Till the next time...**

**smim xx**


	2. Meetings

**Hi guys! So first off, I just wanted to say a massive thank you to those of you who left feedback for the previous chapter, particularly the guest reviewers since I couldn't reply to you personally. Writing does take a long time, especially chapters as long as these, so I really appreciate it when you guys take the time to leave me a review. Makes it that much more worth it!**

**Also, I forgot to add the date to the last chapter, so I've done that now. It took place on the 14th January. Dates are really important in this story ;)**

**So this chapter ended up being pretty long and I really hope you love it. I doubt the other regular chapters will be quite as long as this (there was a lot to fit in) but they'll still be around the 5K mark. A particular event in this chapter is also almost exactly like something that happened in real life, so I'll talk about that at the end. For now, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own TMI, TID or their characters. I do have awesome neighbours though.**

* * *

_**A Tale Of Two…**_

**Meetings**

_16__th__ January_

"Ah, dammit!" Clary cursed, watching the scalding water pool out around her tea mug. She grabbed a handful of paper towels, attempting to mop it up before it spread to her flatmate's precious bread collection. "Tessa, we really need to get a new kettle."

"Did it leak again?" Tessa's head snapped up at once. She'd been sitting at the small dining table in the kitchen, completely engrossed by her book. For once, however, this one belonged to Clary. Since Aloysius had had a very limited collection of books in his mansion's library – the majority of which pre-dated the 20th century – she'd been raised purely on all the classics. In fact, before this year she'd outright refused to read any modern literature that wasn't compulsory for her English Lit degree. It was only after Clary's constant nagging that she'd finally agreed to try 'YA lit' and it wasn't anything like what she'd expected. The current book she'd been reading had her completely baffled. How could a story that she'd initially assumed was about missing a couple of meals involve so much brutality?

"All over the place," Clary grimaced, carrying the mush that remained of the paper towels over to the bin.

"Goodness," Tessa gasped. "Are my croissants safe?"

"Yes, I moved them in time."

"And the bagels?"

"All of your bread is safe, Tessa," Clary rolled her eyes, emptying whatever was left in the kettle into her mug. It trickled to a stop before it was even half full. She sighed. Just one more thing to add to the list of things leaving her unsatisfied. "Wish I could say the same for my sanity."

It had been two days since the two girls had formed the pact, and so far, it hadn't taken too much of a toll on Clary. The staying single part was easy enough – she hadn't left the flat yet – and getting over Raphael hadn't been as hard as she thought.

But she was still frustrated beyond belief.

She'd come to realise that being with Raphael had maybe less to do with being with _Raphael_ as it had to just being with a man. She was a raging bundle of hormones and now she had no one to unleash them on. Even if she'd never gotten far with Raphael, she would still fantasise about him and that used to get her by. Unfortunately, after the events of two days ago, the same thoughts made her sick instead.

Who would star in her romantic hypothetical situations now?

"Oh dear," Tessa arched an eyebrow. "Please don't tell me I have to go over this again? Your name is not Crazy Fray, it's Clary. Raphael is the crazy one."

"It's fine," Clary shook her head. "I'm over it."

Of course, she wouldn't tell Tessa the real reason why she felt like she was going insane. Her overly modest best friend would never understand Clary's less than modest desires.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. I have you, don't I? Who else do I need?"

"Quite right," Tessa nodded. "Speaking of, do you want me to bring you any groceries on the way back from the bookstore?"

"No, it's okay. I've still got some pizza left over. Might as well enjoy it."

"Alright then, I'll see you tonight." Tessa grabbed her bag and made her way to the front door. She hadn't missed a shift at Luke's bookstore since the day she got the job and she didn't plan on starting now, heartbreak or no heartbreak. "Please don't burn the place down or anything while I'm gone."

"I'll try not to!" Clary grinned. "No candles unless I decide to summon a demon or something."

"Even then, I'd prefer it if you used torches instead. I'm sure hell's minions would understand the sentiment."

"Wow. Of the two things I just suggested, who'd think that the demon would be the least of your problems?"

"Demons I can deal with. My uncle, I cannot."

"Fair enough," Clary shrugged, walking over to the living room. "Say hello to Luke for me!"

"Will do!" Tessa said before shutting the door.

Clary flopped herself down on the sofa as soon as she heard the lock click into place. She lay back and closed her eyes, finally alone with her feelings.

Neither her nor Tessa had wanted to be alone since the catastrophic 14th, so they'd spent the last couple of nights camping out in the living room, watching an endless run of movies and eating junk food. She was initially scared to be left alone, but now she found herself relishing the peace and quiet. The best way for Tessa to deal with things was to throw herself into the world of books, so it went without saying that she'd be working the shift at Luke's today, but Clary had decided to give it a miss. She preferred to throw herself into doing _absolutely nothing_. That way she could just let the thoughts run through her brain unimpeded until she grew bored of them.

Clary could only spend so long thinking about the same thing.

In fact, she was beginning to forget about Raphael faster than she'd imagined.

She glanced at her watch, wondering if she could still make it into work on time and join Tessa for the day, but then decided against it when she realised she was still in her pyjamas. Too much effort.

Luke's bookstore was where Clary and Tessa had originally met.

Having just joined university to study Art last September, Clary hadn't managed her finances too well so after blowing through the majority of her budget in Fresher's week, she'd needed to find a job pretty quickly. Despite wanting to finally be self-sufficient, she decided she was too desperate to worry about her pride so she'd asked her father to speak to Luke Garroway – his best friend from his own uni days – and he'd let her work at his bookstore. Tessa had already been working there for a year so she'd helped Clary out and the two of them had become fast friends.

It had only been four months ago, but Clary already felt like she'd known Tessa her whole life. They had two academic years between them, but since Tessa was one of the youngest in her year and Clary was one of the oldest, they'd barely noticed the difference. And besides, even if Clary were the one who was twenty and Tessa were nineteen instead, she'd still probably be the more immature one.

So that's why when Tessa's previous flatmate Sophie moved out over Christmas to live with her boyfriend, Gideon, Clary was Tessa's first choice to live with. The landlord – Tessa's own uncle, Hodge Starkweather – hadn't been pleased about it at first. On Aloysius' request he had to make sure that whoever Tessa lived with was a suitable candidate, and he'd complained that he hadn't had enough time to interrogate Clary, but Tessa went straight to her great-grandfather instead and managed to persuade him to talk Hodge over. The only condition was that at any sign of trouble, Clary would have to move out. That was partly why Tessa was so adamant that they had to behave themselves and stick to all the rules of the flat, for fear of her uncle finding out.

But only about ten percent.

The rest was all Tessa.

Clary was still living in halls at the time, but as soon as Tessa offered, she had no doubt that she'd rather move out of student accommodation and live with her instead. It was the final step to becoming the independent woman she wanted to be.

Besides, living in the same dorm as your best friends from school was no longer fun when the two of them started dating.

Clary was initially over the moon when she found out Isabelle had been given the room next to her in halls and that Simon was just down the corridor, but as soon as the two of them got together, having just a wall between them was the last thing she wanted. There were some things you could never un-hear.

Clary shuddered at the memory, once again thankful for the silence of the flat.

She could be safe in the knowledge that living with someone like Tessa, she'd never have that problem again. Tessa was more puritanical than her own grandmother.

"You're not pushing hard enough!"

Clary froze as a distinctly male voice suddenly sounded through the floor. It was coming from below her.

"I am! You're just not holding it at the right angle."

A different voice. This was one was almost familiar, but still deep.

"What's the right angle? The only angle you need to work with is _up._"

"You're not holding it high enough. It doesn't matter how hard I push it if I can't even fit it in."

She bolted upright, clutching her hands over her ears. She'd moved here to escape from listening in to situations exactly like this and now here it was, all over again.

"PUSH!" The yell was so loud she could hear it through her fingers.

Alec and Magnus. It had to be. But they lived _two_ floors below her. She knew the walls were paper thin, but they shouldn't be this audible.

Their flat wasn't part of the normal towering grey blocks you'd associate with London living. They actually lived in what used to be an old Victorian house that had been turned into four smaller apartments. Tessa and Clary had the top floor, as well as the converted attic, which was now Tessa's bedroom. Below them lived an elderly pair of sisters, though Clary didn't actually know their names. Tessa just nicknamed them the 'Dark Sisters' for reasons unknown to her. Then it was Alec and Magnus who had the bottom floor along with rights to the garden, and a man called De Quincey had the basement flat, though people hardly ever saw him.

So with Isabelle's brother and his boyfriend two flights of stairs below them, Clary didn't imagine she'd have to put up with any noise issues. But as the shouting started up again, she realised she was miserably wrong.

"HARDER!"

"IT'S STUCK, OKAY!? THIS IS AS FAR AS I CAN GO!"

"Ugh!" Clary groaned, jumping off the sofa. She was not about to let this ruin her day of reflection. "Damn Lightwoods. Why can't they just learn to keep it down?"

She walked over to the front door and cracked it open slowly.

"Okay, let me try something different," the first person said again. "Hold on."

"What else do you think I'm doing?" The other one moaned. Again, that voice was somehow recognisable, but it didn't_ sound_ like Alec or Magnus.

"Just give me a second."

"I don't have a second! Do you have any idea how heavy this is, Jace?"

Jace.

_Who was Jace?_

Clary's eyes widened. Had someone broken into the house?

"You know what, I'm just going to let go."

Clary tiptoed her way to the edge of their little landing and glanced down the flight of stairs that led to the Dark Sisters' floor.

"Damn," she whispered, realising she was too short to lean over far enough to see their door. She could see part of the hallway but nothing more than that.

"Are you crazy!? From this high up it'll probably go straight through the floor. Just hold on."

"I'm aching all over, Jace!"

"Oh, quit being such a girl!"

Clary gasped in indignation and began to move towards the staircase.

"That's it, I'm putting it down."

"But we're almost there!"

"Stop trying to act all tough, man, you're literally dripping with sweat. Let's take a short break and then we can get back to it."

"We're almost there, we can't stop now!"

"We can and we're going to. Put it down on three. You ready?"

Clary carried on listening as she knelt down just above the first step. She heard the second man count to three and then the two of them grunted with effort, before there was a thump as something hit the ground. Hanging onto one of the banister railings, she began to lower herself down until she could peek through the next set of stairs. She was almost parallel to the stairs before she could make out anything.

The door to the Dark Sisters' flat was wide open, but stuck halfway through it at an awkward angle was a bright blue sofa. And next to that, leaning against the wall with his back to her, was a man.

She tried to hold back a cry.

_They were being robbed!_

She didn't even think it could get any worse than what she'd imagined at first.

_Crap! _

In her surprise she'd let go of the railing and now she was facing downwards, her hands braced on the step below her head.

Clary began to panic.

She was lying awkwardly on the steps, just feet away from one of the burglars and had nothing to defend herself with. The one he was talking to wasn't in sight.

_Relax,_ she told herself. _Just get back up to the flat and call the police._

He hadn't seen her yet, so as long as she was quiet, she should've been able to make it back to her door without him noticing. Ever so slowly, she shifted her weight to the palms of her hands and started to push herself back up the stairs. She looked ridiculous and in any other situation she probably would've laughed at her predicament, but at the moment she couldn't think of anything but the fear of getting caught.

The man was still leaning against the wall, but his laboured breathing was slowly returning to normal.

"Jace?" He lifted his head. Clary stopped moving. "Grab me a glass of water, will you? I can't get past this thing."

Then before she'd had a chance to scramble back up, he turned around and attempted to sit on the end of the sofa, landing her straight in his line of vision.

His mouth dropped open at the same time hers did.

"Jonathan?!"

"Clary?!"

"Jon-aaaaahh!" Clary cried out as her hands lost their grip once again and she slid down the rest of the staircase, landing in an ungraceful heap at the bottom. At least Hodge had decided to re-carpet the place over Christmas. "Ouch."

"Clary!" Her brother jumped to his feet and stood over her, holding out his hand. "Are you okay?"

"Define okay," she groaned, letting him haul her to her feet.

Then, almost as if he'd somehow electrocuted her, she leaped out of his reach.

"Clary, what's wrong?" He furrowed his eyebrows, the green of his eyes barely visible behind his light blonde hair. He held his hand out again, causing her to jump back another step.

"Get away from me you…you…_felon._"

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"Ugh," she wiped her hands on her pyjama bottoms. "I can't believe I just touched a criminal."

"Did you hit your head on the way down?" He tried to take a step towards her but she just batted her hands at him furiously.

"Did _you_?" She retorted, her own emerald eyes blazing. It was the only feature both of the siblings shared.

"I didn't fall down the stairs…"

"I was referring to your fall from righteousness!" She huffed, pacing about the small landing. "What happened to you? Mum and Dad always gave you everything you wanted. They raised you to be a good, lawful man. And this is how you repay them?"

"Is this about Sebastian?" He asked, definitely confused now. "Because you know he went…"

"If you wanted a sofa why didn't you just ask Dad? I'm sure he would have been more than happy to accommodate your sitting needs. The Dark Sisters are in their eighties for goodness' sake! The last thing they need is to come back to an empty house."

Jonathan stayed quiet as Clary continued to rant at him. He was certain he had absolutely no idea what she was talking about. Did she have a concussion? Did he need to call an ambulance?

"Or if you were that desperate," she carried on, poking him in the chest. "Why didn't you pick Magnus' place? There'd be less stairs to climb and he redecorates every month anyway. He might even have _thanked_ you for getting rid of his tatty sofa. Alec has some sort of emotional attachment to it so it's the only thing he's never been able to change. But no," she began to tear up. This is what happened when people interrupted her days of reflection. Her emotions were still all over the place and she hadn't had enough time to get them in order. "I have to be stuck with the student-sacrificing, sofa-stealing, pensioner…perturbing brother."

"That was quite a lot of alliteration," Jonathan commented.

"Is that all you have to say for yourself?!" She wiped at her eyes.

"Well, what else do you want me to say? I haven't got a clue what you're talking about."

"Oh really? So do you seriously expect me to believe I haven't just walked in on some sort of heist, albeit a rather slow-paced one?"

"What?" He looked just as blank as he had a second before.

"The sofa!" She cried, exasperated. "Why are you robbing the Dark Sisters?"

"Who?"

"The women who live in that flat!" Clary pointed at the door.

"The flat is haunted?" His eyes bugged wide.

"No! They may look like death incarnate but they're very much alive. Look, if you don't give me a reason in the next minute I'm going to call the police. I don't care if you're my brother. This is my duty as a law-abiding citizen."

"Clarissa, that's _my_ sofa," he said slowly.

"Yeah, because you just _stole_ it," she replied just as slowly.

"Only if stealing counts as _exchanging it for money_ at DFS. They had a sale going. As always."

"What are you talking about?"

"That's my sofa," he pointed at the blue obstruction. "And that's my flat." Then he pointed at the room beyond it.

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is."

"No, it's not."

"Clary, I literally just signed the contract. It's mine."

"No, it's not," Clary shook her head violently. It couldn't be true. The world wasn't this cruel. "Look, if you just take the sofa and get out of here I'll pretend I didn't see a thing."

"Clary, this is where I live."

"But you can't!" She yelled, running her hands down her face. Why did bad things happen to amazing people? "I just got away from you! This is where _I_ live!"

"In my flat? Mum didn't mention anything about having to look aft…"

"No, upstairs, you idiot!" She gestured to the flight of stairs she'd just fallen down. "I live on the top floor."

"What!?" Now he was mad. "No, that's not fair! You're meant to be in halls. Why aren't you in halls?"

"I moved out! And forget about that, I'm at least in the right city. Why aren't you in Bristol?"

"I err…" He avoided her gaze. "I'm taking a gap year."

"In the middle of your course?! Jon, you only had one year left!"

"Yeah, well something better came along. It's just a short break, that's all. I'm deferring the year and then I'll go back and finish my degree afterwards."

"Do Mum and Dad know?"

"Yes and no."

"Yes and no, what?"

"Mum knows, Dad doesn't. But she's cool with it, okay? So as long as you don't tell him…"

"And why would I do that? I don't want you here!"

"And do you think I want you here? If my friends find out I've moved in right below my little sister they'll never take me seriously." In response to that, he moved her so she was out of view of the door. "Look, here's what I propose. If you promise to stay quiet about this, I'll do the same. Isn't that best for you anyway? Do you really want people to know you practically live with your brother?"

"That's the issue," she huffed. "I don't want…"

"Neither do I! If I had any idea you had the top floor, do you really think I would have picked this flat? Just don't tell anyone who I am, and in return, I won't tell anyone you're my sister. We can go about our lives as normal and nothing has to change. How does that sound?"

"You won't tell anyone? Not even your flatmates?"

"_Especially_ not my flatmates."

Clary was exhausted. If she had any doubt before that the whole universe was conspiring to cockblock her, it was well and truly gone now.

_Ah, well_, she thought. She had to stay single for the next month anyway. If she couldn't manage it based on her own willpower, her brother's reputation would deal with it for her. And if by some miracle no one found out who he was, at least she'd still stand a shot at a decent relationship after Valentine's.

Basically, she had nothing more to lose.

"Alright, Big _Bother_." She grinned at her pun. "You've got yourself a deal."

-o-O-o-

"Just take it off already!"

"Pardon?" Tessa looked up from the pile of books she'd been sorting out. Jessamine Lovelace sat at the till, a magazine propped open on her lap.

"That stupid necklace." Jessamine gestured towards the green pendant that lay against Tessa's neck. "Playing with it isn't going to bring him back."

Jem had given it to her on their two-month anniversary. The day he'd first kissed her. Tessa hadn't even realised she'd been holding onto it while she worked. The weight of it felt so familiar to her now that taking it off hadn't occurred to her.

"I know that," she sighed. "It's just hard, that's all. If I take it off it feels like I'm giving up on him."

"Tessa, he gave _you_ up. Jem left. He's not coming back."

"The tour only lasts for a few months. He has to come back eventually."

"And what makes you think he'll go running straight back to you? A lot can happen in a few months, Tessa. He could lose interest in you. He could discover he actually swings the other way. He could even meet someone else. Hell, _you_ could meet someone else."

"I don't want someone else." Tessa knew she was being unreasonable, but it was easy to argue with Jessamine. At home she had to stay strong for Clary. Here, in the practically empty bookstore, she could speak freely.

"Tessa, do you have any idea how many hot men there are out there? Just look at this," she held up the magazine she'd been reading, revealing a page full of various topless males. Tessa blushed and averted her eyes immediately.

"Jessie, please. This is not the place."

"What? No one ever comes here anyway and Luke is in the back. Since I so generously offered to take Clary's shift, the least I deserve is some eye candy. Speaking of…" Jessamine got up off her seat and pressed her face to the shop window. "My goodness, I think we actually have a customer on the way."

"On a Sunday evening?" Tessa perked up. "Are you sure?"

"Well, unless he's going to the bakery, we are the only other place open on this street." Jessamine took her hair out of her bun and let her blonde locks fall around her.

"That's wonderful!"

"It is! Oh please, please let him come here. He's so beautiful it hurts."

"Really?" Tessa raised her eyebrows. 'Beautiful' was a rare term for Jessamine to use when describing the opposite sex. Usually it was 'hot' or 'sexy' or 'delicious.'

"See," Jessamine winked at her. "I knew you were horny deep down."

"No!" Tessa blushed once again. "That's not why…"

"Shh, he's coming in!" She squeaked, jumping back into the chair behind the till. "Pretend to be working."

"But I am working…" Tessa rolled her eyes, placing the last of the books back on the shelves. But despite herself, as the shop bell rung and the man stepped inside, she couldn't help but peek through at him.

And what she saw took her breath away.

-o-O-o-

"Stupid." Clary mumbled, throwing a sweet wrapper from one end of the kitchen into the bin on the other side. It missed by a fraction. She balled up the next one and aimed again. "Annoying." This one bounced off the lid and fell onto the floor. "Life-ruining." The last one landed on the top of the lid, then slid down the side. "Idiot."

Her final wrapper shot straight into the open can.

Clary punched the air.

This is how she'd kept herself entertained for the last couple of hours. Since Tessa had obviously objected to having a dartboard in the house, Clary had to make do with turning various objects into her brother and lobbing things at them. She'd actually enjoyed it so much that she began alternating between having target Jonathans and target Raphaels to throw things at. It was much more fun than sitting in silence and thinking about things. Maybe Tessa was onto something with keeping herself preoccupied.

The only thing that finally interrupted her systematic revenge-taking was her stomach. Clary had finished the rest of the pizza for lunch, so she decided she'd just make herself beans on toast for dinner. It required no effort at all and it made her feel like a proper student.

After putting some beans in the microwave, she placed two slices of bread into the toaster and pressed it down.

She thought she saw the light blink on, but then the bread popped straight back up again. Frowning, she pressed the lever down harder. This time, the light didn't even turn on.

"Oh, come on!" Clary turned the plug on and off, then pushed the lever again. "Why, world, why?" Couldn't she even make herself some toast now?

Irritated, she grabbed the beans from the microwave and resolved to just have them with cold bread. To her dismay, she found that the beans were still cold too.

"Crap," she muttered, noticing that it wasn't just the toaster that wasn't working. The microwave light had flickered off too. "Please…" She flung the fridge door open.

Darkness.

"No!" Clary ran over to the light switches and sighed in frustration as they wouldn't turn on either. They'd had a power cut.

Tessa had told her not to burn the place down with candles. Instead, Clary had done practically the opposite. To top it all off, the short winter day was coming to an end, and the room was slowly darkening. Before long, she wouldn't be able to see a thing.

"Tessa's going to kill me." Clary slumped down on one of the dining table chairs and placed her head in her hands. Since she'd only been living here for a couple of weeks, she had no idea where the fuse box was. Tessa had probably told her at some point. She went over all of the emergency procedures in great detail on the night Clary moved in, but she'd stopped paying attention as soon as the word 'manual' came up. If Tessa came home before the electricity was fixed, she'd know for sure that Clary hadn't listened to her.

"Think, Fray. Think." She couldn't even look it up on the Internet since the WiFi had cut out too. Her phone was dead so that ruled out calling Simon. Clary looked about herself and managed to find a torch in the kitchen drawer. Perhaps she could convince Tessa that she had decided to summon a demon after all? Tessa wouldn't notice the lack of electricity in the morning since the kettle sometimes conked out anyway, so that would buy Clary a whole extra day to figure out a solution.

_There's someone else you could ask._

Clary shut the thought down before she could get too carried away.

No, she would not go running to her big brother. If he was going to respect her privacy, he had to think that she was worth respecting. Bugging him once he'd only just moved in wouldn't do anything to prove she was finally independent.

But…

Clary sat up.

Her brother wasn't the only person in the building.

She grabbed the house keys and pulled her slippers on. Eyeing the flat below warily, she walked straight past it and went down the second flight of stairs.

"Alec!" She knocked on the door of Flat Two. "Magnus?" No answer.

Surely they had to be home by now?

That's when she noticed the post-it note taped to the front door. It read:

_Out celebrating our second anniversary. If you need anything, come back in the morning. (Not before 11am. We'll be _very_ busy before 11am.)_

_Lots of love,_

_M & A _

_xxxx_

"Why is everyone in love?" She cried, her head resting on the door. She had only three options left.

The first, to go with the demon story and hope Tessa thought she was weird enough to buy it.

The second, to go down to the basement flat and ask De Quincey for help.

She shuddered. Nope, that was out of the question.

So she was left with the third.

Dragging her feet up the stairs, she came to a stop outside Jonathan's door. The sofa was nowhere to be seen so they must have managed to get it in somehow.

"Here goes my pride," she whispered, knocking on the door. If it were between facing Tessa's wrath or looking helpless in front of Jonathan, she'd rather have the latter. She was almost relieved when there was no answer, but then she heard shuffling from within.

Seconds later, the door opened and Clary found herself face to face with a chest. It was a very nice chest: tanned and muscled and glistening with sweat, but it was also very naked.

She forced her gaze upward and found an incredibly attractive blonde looking down at her, an amused smirk on his face.

"You're not Jonathan."

-o-O-o-

Jessamine's mouth hung open as the black-haired man nodded at her and walked past. Tessa's jaw had also hit the floor, but it was for a completely different reason.

Across his white t-shirt, in large red print were the words 'Suck my Dickens.'

She was absolutely appalled.

To reduce her favourite author to a component in such a distasteful statement was one of the most insulting things anyone could have done. The man hadn't even a spoken a word to her and yet she already despised him.

She was truly ashamed of her generation. No one appreciated or valued those who had been the pillars of English literature. No one even appreciated decent prose anymore. Instead they were all obsessed with innuendos and so-called puns.

She hastily rearranged her features into an expression of cool indifference as he strode past, browsing the shelf behind her.

"Theresa, darling!" Jessamine called, speaking with an accent that was definitely more posh than usual. "Could you assist me for a moment, please?"

"Sure," Tessa said, trying to keep her tone even. Once they were out of the boy's sight, they began whispering to each other. "What do you want? And what's going on with your voice?"

"Take the till. I want to work the floor."

"But I worked the till all morning," Tessa protested. "And that's your favourite job."

Jessamine hated having to sort through the piles of books they were occasionally donated and generally despised restocking the shelves. She much preferred sitting at the till so she'd have the excuse of being busy while just reading a magazine or being on her phone the whole time.

"I thought you might want to sit down for a bit."

"I'm fine," Tessa shook her head. "I don't need a break yet."

"Alright," Jessamine groaned. "I want to talk to the guy, okay? I mean, have you _seen_ his face?"

"Can't say I paid much attention to it," Tessa shrugged. That was true enough. She'd been so incensed by his t-shirt that she hadn't even bothered to get a good look at him. But now she was curious again, so she glanced back to where he was flipping through a book.

Unfortunately, Jessamine was right.

He was beautiful.

His hair was raven black and curled at the edges, and when he looked up, Tessa was faced with the most interesting eyes she'd ever seen. They were a deep, intense blue and stood in stark contrast to the darkness of his hair and his pale skin.

And his _face_.

She understood now why Jessamine had used that word in the first place. Beautiful. There really was no other way to describe it. If he hadn't been wearing that darned shirt, Tessa would've found it nigh on impossible not to smile at him.

But there it was again. That shirt with its offending words glaring straight at her.

And now, so was he.

"Sorry to bother you," he said, his voice husky and pleasant. "But do you mind helping me look for something?"

Tessa edged towards the till.

"Of course!" The voice was too deep to be Jessamine's. Luke had come back from the storage room. "Tessa, help the young man out."

"Erm…" She stuttered, sneaking a look at Jessamine. She looked devastated. "Yeah, of course."

"Brilliant," the man smiled, his face lighting up. Tessa struggled to keep her own composed as she walked up to him. He was tall. Very tall. At five foot nine, Tessa towered over most girls and some men as well, but for once she felt normal. He had to be at least six-three.

Luke nodded at her in encouragement as she passed him and for the first time, she found herself wishing she'd just stayed at home instead.

"How can I help you, Sir?" Tessa kept her voice calm and polite. Behind her, Luke and Jessamine were arguing in hushed whispers.

"Oh, don't call me 'sir,'" he shuddered. "It makes me feel ancient. Just Will."

"Okay," she said, feeling incredibly uncomfortable. She wasn't used to having such conversational customers. Most people walked in and out without a word. "How can I help you?"

She couldn't bring herself to say his name. It felt far too unprofessional.

"I need a recommendation for a book. You see, there's this character called Ren and she loves to read, but my brother always tells me that I have a rather…how shall I put it?" He bit his lip, momentarily distracting Tessa. "Unusual. Yes, unusual taste in books. He tells me that a normal teenage girl wouldn't like the kinds of books I like, so I need you, a normal teenage girl – at least, I hope you are – to tell me what Ren might like."

Tessa was speechless. She had no idea what he was going on about.

"I can't help you," she said, instead. "Sorry."

"Oh, I didn't mean to insinuate you conformed to some sort of societal norm," he corrected himself. "I just need to know what teenage girls like."

"I still can't help you."

"You're not a girl?" He narrowed his eyes.

"I'm not a teenager," she said, very curt. "I'm twenty."

"That's close enough. You're still a girl though, right?"

"Yes, but…"

"So you can help me," he grinned. She found it infuriating.

"I can't. I'm afraid I don't quite understand what you're saying."

"Right, my bad." Will held his hands up. "I get carried away sometimes and don't explain things properly. Allow me to start again. I'm a writer." Tessa's eyes widened at this. That was definitely not what she'd been expecting. "And there's a character in my book called Ren. She's in her last year of school, a bit hare-brained but otherwise your fairly stereotypical teenager. Though, I guess hare-brained is about right for that too," he chuckled to himself. "I looked up some popular franchises on the Internet, but I want her to be unique. Just not too unique. So I figured, since you work at a bookstore, you might know a book series she could be interested in?"

"I…" Tessa stopped herself. She hadn't wanted to help him before, simply because she disapproved of him, but now she realised that she really couldn't help him. Her own taste in books was about as far from a 'normal teenage girl' as you could get. If Ren was an aging pensioner, then she might have been able to help. The only current series she knew about were the ones Clary was making her read this morning and she knew they were very popular. She'd sound like a fool for even mentioning them. "I'm sorry, I really can't help you."

He didn't look convinced.

"Right. Theresa, was it?"

"Just Tessa," she snapped, disliking him using her name as if they were somehow familiar. Then she realised her mistake. Telling him her preferred name was Tessa really was treating him as if they were familiar. She cursed herself internally.

"Alright, Just Tessa. I can see I've upset you somehow."

"Don't be ridiculous," she rolled her eyes.

"Are you still upset about the 'normal' thing?"

"What?! No, of course not."

"The age thing, then?" He cocked his head to the side. "I apologise for thinking you were a teenager. But in all fairness, twenty isn't exactly miles off the mark."

"It's not the age thing," she grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Then what is it?"

"The t-shirt!" Tessa huffed, not able to hold it in any longer. "I absolutely despise your t-shirt!"

"Oh." Will looked down at himself, pulling at it. "Have you had a traumatic experience with cotton in the past?"

"What? No, it's what's written on the shirt!"

"Suck my Dickens?" He laughed. "My brother got it for me for Christmas. Thought it would be funny since I'm a writer and all." Will rolled his eyes. "Unfortunately, I got all the decent genes in the family. He's mediocre-looking and entertaining at best."

"It's not funny at all!" She gasped, eyes wide.

"Come on, give the boy a little credit. It is vaguely amusing. Not up to the standards of my superior wit, but he tried."

"Well, I find it incredibly insulting!"

"Wait, you're serious?" Now Will's eyes widened.

"Deadly serious! I think it's demeaning and offensive and amounts to the defamation of one of the most important writers to have ever been born in this country." Tessa knew she probably should have kept calm, but she couldn't help herself. Not when it came to books.

"Dickens, really?" Will raised an eyebrow. "I personally think he's a bit of a bore."

"A bore?" Tessa breathed, her heart stuttering to a halt.

"Yeah," he nodded, seemingly oblivious of her ever-growing outrage. "Take Great Expectations, for example. Who would honestly think Rochester would be a good setting for a book? I mean, have you _been_ to Rochester? Then there's Bleak House. I think that speaks for itself. And don't even get me started on A Tale Of Two Cities."

"That's it!" Tessa stepped back, pointing to the door. Insinuating something negative about her favourite book was where she drew the line. "Out."

"Excuse me?" He was still smiling.

"I will not have the great Charles John Huffam Dickens mocked by some thoughtless, arrogant and completely dim-witted…fool. We reserve the right to refuse custom to anyone and I am taking it!"

To her surprise and complete horror, Will burst out laughing.

"Huffam?! His middle name is Huffam?"

Tessa let out an unintelligible battle cry and grabbing Will by his wrist, she dragged him to the shop entrance and then in front of a completely bewildered Jessamine and Luke, pushed him out onto the pavement. As she slammed the door on him and stomped to the back of the store, she could still hear his hoots of laughter.

-o-O-o-

"Yes, I am," the blonde said, his smirk becoming more pronounced.

"No, you're really not," Clary insisted. Unless her brother had suddenly become ten times better looking and tanned significantly, this wasn't Jonathan. This imposter Jonathan's hair was also a darker shade of blonde than it was supposed to be.

"Yes, I really am." He held out his hand for her to shake. "Jonathan Herondale. Nice to meet you."

"Oh!" She let his much larger hand engulf her own. That made more sense.

"But people just call me Jace."

So he'd been the other one grappling with the sofa. It's not surprising that Jonathan was struggling more than he was to lift it. She hadn't seen someone with as chiselled a body as Jace's in…well, forever. Not in real life, anyway.

"And you are?"

"Clary," she finally replied, realising she'd been staring at his torso again. At least he was wearing pyjama bottoms.

Just like her.

Clary mentally slapped herself as she recalled she was still wearing the same pyjamas she'd had on all weekend. They were holey and very thin, but at least they covered up more than his did.

"And how can I help you, Clary?"

She bit her lip, loving the way that sounded. When Raphael spoke to her, he usually called her Clarissa and rolled the 'r.' She thought she'd never prefer her name pronounced any other way, until now. Jace said it as if her entire name was rolling off his tongue. She liked it. Too much.

"Well…"

"And how do you know my name, by the way? Or were you looking for…"

"You!" She finished, realising this was better than having to ask Jonathan. "I was looking for you, you're just not how I thought you would be."

"How did you think I would be?" He quirked an eyebrow at her and folded his arms across his chest.

"Less tan," she admitted. "I mean, this is England. Land of clouds and rain."

"True," he laughed. It rumbled in his chest. "I went to visit my cousins in LA over the Christmas. I'm not super pale anyway, but that helped."

"Right, yeah," she bobbed her head, her eyes drifting from his face once again.

"You didn't answer my question, though. How did you know who I was?"

"The landlord!" Clary exclaimed, thinking off the top of her head. She assumed Hodge owned the whole house.

"Ah," Jace nodded.

"Yeah," she continued, encouraged by the fact he hadn't questioned that. "He told us new tenants were moving in so I thought I'd say hi."

"I appreciate that," Jace smiled. "Do you want to come in?"

"Oh no, I should probably get back…"

"Of course, sorry. Well, I'll see you around sometime." He began to shut the door.

"Definitely, yeah," Clary smiled back, then realised what she'd forgotten to ask. "Wait!"

"Yes?" Jace poked his head out the door.

"Ermm…there was something else."

"Mmhmm?"

"Do you know err…electricity?"

"Not personally," he shrugged. "But I've had brief encounters. Not very talkative."

Clary giggled despite herself.

"I meant, do you know how to work with electricity?"

"I'm not qualified or anything, no."

"But do you know how to fix a power cut?"

"You had one too, didn't you?" He grinned. At her surprise he added, "Yeah, it was the whole building."

"Oh, thank goodness!" She sighed. She'd been so worried it was something she'd done.

"You just need to flip the switches back in your fuse box."

"Riiiight…"

"You don't know where it is, do you?" He was getting far too much joy out of her predicament. If he wasn't so hot she'd have been very annoyed by now.

"No!" She protested, despite him guessing the truth. "I just couldn't reach it, that's all."

"It's on the ground…"

"Oh." Clary flushed and looked down at her feet. Here was this ridiculously attractive man standing before her and she must have looked like a complete idiot.

"I mean, you're short. But not that short, surely?"

"Hey!" She glared up at him. Better to admit the truth than something as embarrassing as that. "Okay fine, I don't know where it is."

"I'll help you," he winked, then moved past her to stand in the hallway. "Which way?"

"Up," she mumbled, keeping her eyes trained on the ground as she followed him up the stairs.

"Keys." He said, and she dropped her set into his open palm. Letting topless strangers into her dark house wasn't something she would normally have done – Tessa would flip out if she knew about it – but she figured Jace didn't look like an axe-murderer. He was friends with her brother, after all. And though she wouldn't admit it, Clary also felt safer knowing that Jonathan was only a few metres away. Just in case. Jonathan kept weird company sometimes.

He asked her to keep the door open so he could see part of the hallway. Then, he began to feel his way across the wall until his hand hit something solid.

"Got it."

"Hey, you said the fuse box was on the floor!"

"Did I?" Jace feigned innocence, his expression surprised as he looked back at Clary. "My mistake. I meant it's really high up."

Her mouth fell open as he winked at her again, before turning his attention back to the fuse box. He'd been messing with her deliberately. Clary was mad but she was also very, very turned on.

_Damn him._

"Your kitchen switch won't go up," he said, snapping her out of the direction her thoughts were taking.

"Huh?"

"The kitchen," he repeated. "Did a fuse blow in your kitchen?"

"I don't think so…"

"Where were you when your power cut out?"

"The kitchen."

He raised his eyebrows at her again, that frustrating knowing look on his face. Clary pursed her lips, realising it may have been her fault after all.

"This one?" He asked, pointing at the kitchen door. She nodded and followed him, leaving a wedge to keep the front door open.

"What were you doing when it happened?"

"Trying to make toast. Wait!" She remembered she'd found a torch just before she'd left to find Alec and Magnus. "Here." She switched it on and pointed it towards where the toaster should have been.

Jace walked over to inspect it and nodded to himself.

"What happens when water meets electricity, Clary?"

"Bad things," she replied, the cogs whirring in her brain.

"That's right," he said, unplugging the toaster and bringing it over to her.

The cord was wet.

"Crap," she groaned. In her haste to mop up the water around Tessa's bread collection when the kettle had leaked this morning, she'd forgotten to clean up around the toaster. So when she'd gone to put it on for dinner, the fuse had obviously blown, cutting out not only her electricity, but that of the whole building. "I'm such an idiot."

All the blood rushed to her face.

"It's okay," Jace shook his head, still smiling. "We all make mistakes." Then he moved past her to flick up the final switch in the fuse box. Bright light flooded the hallway and Clary had to shield her eyes. "See, no harm done."

"Thank you, Jace. Really." Clary smiled sheepishly up at him.

"It's alright. It's a good thing you have someone as brilliant and clever as me living below you now."

She couldn't help but agree.

"Any other emergencies, you know where to find me," he clapped her on the shoulder, before making his way back down the stairs to his own flat. He stopped just before he was out of her sight to turn and grin devilishly at her. "See you around, Clary." Then with one final wink, he was gone.

"See you around," she whispered back.

_Oh man,_ she thought. _I am so screwed._

* * *

**You and Tessa both, dear.**

**So what did you think?**

**I hope Jonathan being in the story was a nice surprise for you all. I deliberately hadn't made it clear in the summary that he'd be there and I thought I'd just let you discover him at the same time as Clary. I just love him too much to leave him out of anything I ever write.**

**Also, how did you guys find the way it was written? I haven't done a dual-perspective story before, so I'd definitely appreciate feedback on that front. Did the transitions between characters make sense? Or is there another way you'd like me to point them out?**

**Finally, the inspiration! The way that Clary met Jace is literally the same way my flatmates and I first met our new neighbours. We'd had a power cut and we didn't realise why the fuse was playing up, so we had to go and ask for help. And yep, the one who opened the door was topless. He also came upstairs while still topless. But yeah, nothing romantic happened. We all just became good friends. Those two are like our guardian angels and we definitely ask them for help _a lot_. I thought you might like to know that :)**

**Again, I haven't set an exact day for updates, but I'm aiming for weekends at the moment so that's your best bet to check. Really hope you liked it and thanks again for reading!**

**Till the next time...**

**smim xx**


	3. Ultimatums

**Yoohoo! How are we all this fine Saturday evening? Or whatever time of day it is where you are. Or whatever day, for that matter. How are things right now at the exact moment you are reading this? I hope everyone is well.**

**So, this is the last chapter I'll ever be uploading WHILST BEING A TEENAGER. I turn the big two-oh on Wednesday which is frankly quite terrifying, but worry not, I'm sure it will have no effect at all on this fic. Unless, there's some magical transformation that takes place as you enter the third decade of life that I am as yet unaware of. So be prepared for the possibility of me returning next week...a changed woman.**

**Aha, as if.**

**Enjoy the chapter ;) Oh and thank you to those of you who reviewed the last one! Especially the live reaction review where you added your thoughts as you were reading and posted the whole thing at the end. I haven't had many of those before and it was thoroughly enjoyable to read, so if anyone else wants to give that a go, feel free!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own TMI, TID or any of their characters. But for now I am a teenager like Clary. For now.**

* * *

_**A Tale Of Two…**_

**Ultimatums**

_18__th__ January_

Irresponsible. Incompetent. Immature.

Those were the three words Imogen had used to describe her grandsons.

The Herondale family had been sitting around the grand dining table on Christmas Day, with Imogen at the head and her son Edmund on the other end. Linette sat next to her husband with their eldest daughter - Ella - to the left side of her, and her own husband of three weeks, Ragnor Fell to the left of her. Directly opposite sat Cecily, Will and Jace.

The conversation had initially been civil. At least, as civil as could be when the four Herondale siblings got together. The boys had exchanged pleasantries with Ragnor, spoken politely to their father and Cecily hadn't stabbed anyone with a fork. All in all, everything was fine.

Until Jace slipped up.

His mother had been asking him about how his best friend Jonathan was doing at university and at the time, Jace had been too engaged in a staring contest with Will to pay attention to what he was saying. Needless to say, it had come as a surprise to the entire family when he accidentally revealed how the two of them had dropped out of Bristol.

After that, civil was the last word you'd use for the rest of the evening.

Edmund had stormed off in a rage, Linette was distraught, Ella and Cecily sunk lower in their chairs and Ragnor looked like someone had dropped a bucket over his head as Imogen proceeded to scream the house down.

Irresponsible, incompetent and immature.

That's what she'd called him and unwittingly, Will had also managed to land himself in the firing line by saying, "He's still young, he'll figure it out."

"Just like you're still figuring it all out?" Imogen had yelled. For someone so small, she had an incredibly large voice. "You're twenty-two and practically unemployed. Being a writer alone won't pay the bills."

And then she'd whipped out a laptop and brought up the Facebook photos. Album after album of the boys' nights out. They couldn't believe she'd managed to find them in the first place. They thought they had the highest privacy and didn't dare accept a request from anyone remotely Herondale.

"Irresponsible," she'd said again, pointing to a picture of Will lining up vodka shots. His best friend Gabriel was on the floor next to him, completely plastered already. "Incompetent." This time it was one of Jace holding up a Psychology essay. He was smiling, but Imogen didn't find the 'Fail' stamp quite as funny. "Immature." The last one was of both of the brothers from their recent trip to LA. Will and Jace were taking strategically placed pictures of each other on the beach, though the majority of the frames were focussed on the assets of the girls sunbathing beside them. She didn't seem to mind that their cousin, Mark Blackthorn was also part of it. Apparently as the older ones, they were the bad influence.

"You're both disgraces to the good Herondale name," she'd said, finally putting the laptop away. "For years and years I hoped it would change, but no. You're both too much like your father and far too susceptible to the same vices. And as such," she took a deep breath. "I'm handing all rights to your trust funds over to your sisters."

"What?" Will exclaimed, the brothers bolting out of their chairs. Since their grandfather, Marcus, had passed away a decade ago, a part of his savings had been divided equally between the four grandchildren. As the only ones over twenty-one, Ella and Will had so far had sole access to the money and it was the only thing getting Will by. In less than two weeks, Jace should have had it too. "You can't do that!"

"As the sole beneficiary of your grandfather's Will, yes I can," she replied, her expression stony. "He said he'd always leave it up to me to decide what to do with the money since his own judgement couldn't always be trusted. His entire fortune went to me and then _I _was the one who decided to share the money with you kids. I am the guarantor of your funds and therefore, I can revoke them as and when I see fit. You're lucky you got to make use of them already, William, but as for you Jonathan, you'll never see that money."

The boys fell back into their seats, their mouths wide open.

"Unless," she finally added, placing her hands on the table as she leaned towards them. "You can persuade me otherwise."

And that was all the lifeline they needed.

Since that fateful dinner, changing their grandmother's opinion was the only thing on the brothers' minds.

They'd relied too much on the money, or at least, the promise of it in Jace's case, to prepare for a future without it. Ella claimed Imogen was actually doing them a favour and that the experience would do them some good, but Jace wasn't convinced. He'd hoped she'd been bluffing but when he visited the bank a week ago on his twenty-first birthday, there was nothing. The large amount that had suddenly become available to his brother almost two years before was nowhere to be found.

Imogen meant business and now the Herondale boys had to step up.

The first two conditions were easy enough to overcome. By moving into the city and becoming self-sufficient, Jace and Will hoped that they'd be able to show that they could be responsible. Will had managed to get a job with an online-magazine and Jace was still planning on setting up his tattoo business with Jonathan. They could earn a living for themselves and cope on their own. If by the next time they saw her the two of them were still alive and well, that would prove they were competent.

It was the third part they'd initially struggled with.

How could they prove they were mature?

Jace couldn't exactly phone her up and start slating the youth of today in the hope it would make him look better. Will had already tried that.

In the end, it was Cecily who had figured it out.

"Who is Gran's favourite?" She'd asked them on the night before the big move. "Besides me, obviously."

"Me," the two boys had both replied automatically, but Cecily simply shook her head.

"Look, I can't help you if you don't want to be helped. If anything, I'll be twice as rich because of this, so I hope you both fail…"

"Okay, wait!" Will called as she started walking out of the room. "It's Ella. Obviously, it's Ella."

"Right," Cecily nodded. "And why is it Ella? What does she have that you two don't have?"

"…breasts?" Jace raised his eyebrows.

Cecily strode over to him, began to smile so that he would too, then slapped him upside the head.

"Idiot."

"Yeah, Jace," Will tutted. "You're so immature."

"You're _both_ immature," Cecily huffed. "That's why you're in this situation. If Ella and I were the only grandkids, I bet Gran would have lowered the age limit to eighteen and then I could already have my share. I'm having to wait three extra years because she's always known that you two would be trouble."

"Then tell us," Jace countered. "If we're so stupid, spell it out for us. What does Ella have?"

"Ragnor," she stated as if it were the most obvious answer in the universe. "She has Ragnor."

"I don't see how that would help us," Jace pursed his lips. "Firstly, I don't think he bats for our team, if you get my meaning. And secondly, he's sort of married."

"You're missing the point."

"Married." Will perked up. "They're married. Wait, do you think she wants us to get married?"

Cecily shrugged.

"No way!" Jace stood up. "I'm in my prime. I can't tie myself to just one girl when I've got a whole world of them falling over me."

"And that's your problem," she said. "I'm not saying you have to get married per se, but what Ella has that neither of you have ever had is a long-term relationship."

"What would you define as long term?"

"At least a month."

The boys groaned.

"But," she continued. "Can you see how that would change things for you? If, by some miracle, the two of you managed to stay with the same girl for more than a month, that's all Gran would need to see you're worthy of the trust funds again. Mature adults have mature, committed relationships. You're already moving out. You're getting jobs. Add an actual girlfriend to that and you're set."

"We may as well start picking our plots in the cemetery," Jace sighed.

"Somewhere sunny," Will remarked. "I want to blind people with the glare from my pure-gold gravestone."

"And they'll have to etch the words, 'Responsible. Competent. Mature.' onto it."

"Maybe a drawing of a briefcase to reinforce that."

"And Granny pants. Perhaps _Gran's_ actual pants."

"Ah yes, embossed into the gold," Will nodded. "I can see it now."

"It would add a nice personal touch. Literally."

"Kids love interactive displays. We'll be the talk of the graveyard."

"I'm so glad I don't have to live with you two anymore." Cecily rolled her eyes and left them to their elaborate funeral planning.

But they knew she was right. Neither of them had ever managed to keep the same girl for longer than a couple of days. It was no wonder Imogen doubted their ability to not blow thousands of pounds in the same time.

And so, their third mission was decided.

Along with the flat, Will and Jace were going to take _themselves_ off the market.

As soon as possible.

-o-O-o-

Tessa felt absolutely horrid.

Every time she thought of how she'd behaved in the bookstore, a sick, twisting feeling seized her gut. She didn't think it was possible for her to be so ashamed of herself. Aloysius had brought her up to be a thoughtful, respectful and patient young woman.

What would her great-grandfather say if he'd seen her the other day?

How would he feel about the fact that she had yelled at a customer, called him a dim-witted fool and then dragged him out of the shop _by his wrist? _It was practically assault.

Granted, Will had deeply offended her, but she realised now how irrational she'd been. How was he to know that Charles Dickens was her favourite author and that A Tale Of Two Cities was the most important book she'd ever read? No one but Tessa knew that it was the one she clutched to herself whenever she remembered her parents' death, silent tears falling onto her pillow.

How could he have known that by drowning herself in the life and pain of Lucie Manette, she had always been able to distance herself from the real world? A world without car accidents and brothers who didn't care enough to stay with you.

How was he to know that working in the bookstore wasn't just a bill-payer for her, but rather that books were her whole life? They were the world that she had chosen to live in since at times, they offered one so much better than her own.

She felt far better now, of course. The painful memories of a decade ago had slowly slipped into the background. Though she hadn't known Aloysius well when she'd been sent to live with him, she'd grown to love him dearly. Having her around the house had made him feel truly alive again. Like he still mattered. And having him around assured Tessa that she wasn't truly alone. Nathaniel was already sixteen when they'd been orphaned so he had the choice to move out and live on his own and he took it. Tessa had despised him at the time, but she'd learned to come to terms with his decision.

Everyone dealt with grief in their own way and the last thing he needed was a ten-year old sister to take care of. He knew she'd be alright in Yorkshire, but there wasn't much he could have done there. The isolation of the Starkweather mansion meant job opportunities were few and he'd never cared much for books, so the boredom would have driven him insane if their austere great-grandfather hadn't managed to.

And to top all of that, she was still nursing a broken heart. The first man she'd truly let into her life after Aloysius had bailed on her too. As with Nathaniel, Tessa had been nothing but a hindrance to Jem. She was holding him back from his dream but in letting her go, he'd shattered all of her own.

No, she thought. There was no way Will could have known all this.

She'd simply taken out her building frustration with the male species on this poor stranger who'd only been asking for her help, with a _book_ of all things. It was hard to see how he was really feeling behind that mask of amusement, but she was sure he must have been devastated. She was rude and abrupt and hadn't taken the advice she'd grown to live by.

She'd judged him by his cover.

Tessa let her head fall into her hands as a fresh wave of nausea overcame her.

Who knew guilt could be this potent?

"Tessa?" Sophie put down the books she was holding and came over to the till. "Tessa, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," she shook her head weakly. "Just remembering what an awful human being I am."

"Is this about that guy again?" Sophie rolled her eyes. When Tessa had almost refused to come into the bookstore the day before, she'd forced the story out of her. Missing a shift was almost a crime as far as Tessa was usually concerned. Sophie had actually found the whole situation pretty hilarious, but Tessa wasn't as pleased. She wanted him to come back so she could apologise to him properly, but he hadn't turned up since.

"I've scared him away for good," Tessa sighed, her hand finding its way to Jem's pendant as it always did when she needed comfort. "He's never coming back. He's probably lost all trust in the literary world now and he may even quit writing. Oh goodness," she inhaled. "I've ruined his career. He'll be out on the street and it'll be all my fault."

"Stop being so dramatic," Sophie laughed. "You're starting to sound like Jessamine."

"I haven't seen her again either! Oh, what must she think of me…"

"Tessa, seriously. You need to stop doing this to yourself. Firstly, for Jessamine to ever think you were anything less than a goody-two shoes you'd have to rob a charity shop or something."

"Sophie Collins," Tessa gasped. "That is absolutely despicable!"

"My point exactly," she smiled. "And secondly, I'm sure our writer friend is just fine. He probably deserved it and if he does end up needing a place to stay, he may as well crash at mine. Apparently we're a refuge for the annoying and destitute these days." Sophie didn't seem so pleased at the last part.

"What do you mean?"

"The honeymoon period is well and truly over," she groaned. "Gideon's younger brother has woodworm at his apartment or something, so he's coming to live with us for a bit. I have two days left with my boyfriend and then things are going to get very awkward."

"Oh dear," Tessa patted her on the head. "Well, if you need to get away at any point, you're more than welcome to come back to mine. Clary's got your old room now but I've got plenty of space upstairs."

"I may take you up on that. So, are you feeling better now?"

"Marginally," Tessa shrugged, but smiled anyway. "Better now that I know he'll have a place to go to."

"Glad to be of service," Sophie bowed. "Now, why don't I take the till for a bit? You've got too much time to think just sitting around."

"I agree. Thank you, Collins." Tessa jumped off the stool and took the pile of books that Sophie had been sorting out.

"You're welcome, Gray."

Tessa saluted and pushed her way through the doors at the back of the shop to the storage room.

She loved living with Clary, but there were times she definitely missed having Sophie around. With Sophie she didn't have to be protective or be the responsible one. She was anyway, but it wasn't a compulsion as it was with Clary. Tessa could offload all of her worries and leave them in her old flatmate's very capable hands, safe in the knowledge she'd be able to deal with them. Perhaps it was because the Fray girl was younger or that she simply _looked_ more fragile, but Tessa had automatically adopted the big sister role when they became friends. She knew Clary was probably able to handle as much as Sophie, but Tessa always felt guilty for getting her involved in her own problems.

Regardless, she knew she was lucky to have both of the girls in her life. Clary brought out her wilder side and Sophie was there to keep her grounded. Even Jessamine belonged in her dysfunctional group of friends.

Tessa smiled to herself as she put away the last of the books. Things weren't so bad. It would have helped if she were able to apologise to Will, but it wouldn't be the end of the world if she never saw him again. Perhaps the guilt would remind her to hold her tongue in the future.

"Where is it?" She mumbled to herself, searching for the new shipment of textbooks they'd just had in. She could faintly hear the ringing of the shop bell from the other room.

Probably just Luke. He'd said he would be late today so the girls had to hold the fort until he turned up.

"Ah!" Tessa spotted the package in the corner and scooped it up, nudging her way back through to the store.

She was initially surprised to see that Sophie was no longer at the till, but then she heard a shockingly familiar voice.

"You see, there's this character called Georgina and she's the executive of a multimedia company." Tessa froze in her tracks as the man went on. "Very affluent. Very sharp. She loves to read, but I'm not sure I could do the mind of a mature, sophisticated woman justice, so I was hoping that you, a mature, sophisticated woman might be able to tell me what books Georgina would find intriguing."

"Well," she heard Sophie laugh. "I can think of a few, but you'd probably be better off asking…"

The box fell from Tessa's hands as the pair of them came into sight, landing on the floor with a resounding wallop.

There was Sophie, taken aback by the look of horror on Tessa's face and behind her, as she'd expected, was Will.

"Just Tessa!" He raised his eyebrows before breaking into a toothy grin.

"Georgina?!" She said in response.

"Actually, it's Will," he replied, his eyes narrowing the slightest.

"You lied to me." Tessa couldn't believe it. He didn't even have the decency to look ashamed.

"I don't think so," he shook his head. His smile hadn't faltered. "My name is definitely still Will. Okay, so technically it's William, but I didn't exactly deny that so…"

"Ren," Tessa continued, completely ignoring him. "You told me the character in your book was called Ren. Who is Georgina?"

"What?"

"The other day," she stalked up to him until Sophie was almost sandwiched in between the two of them. The shorter girl looked incredibly uncomfortable. "You came in here asking me for a book recommendation. You said there was a character in your book called Ren and that she loved to read, but that you didn't know what a 'normal, teenage girl' would like, so you asked me."

Tessa realised she must have sounded incredibly bitter, but she was past caring. She'd spent the past two days fretting over the last encounter that they'd had and feeling unbearably guilty about it, when it'd clearly had no effect on him at all.

Will looked just as obnoxiously amused as he had the last time.

"I did," he nodded.

It was obvious he'd played her. She doubted that he was even writing a book at all. This was probably just some elaborate way he'd come up with to woo poor, unsuspecting booksellers.

And on top of all that, why was it that the thing that hurt her most of all, was the fact that he'd compared her to Ren, a hare-brained schoolgirl, when he'd said Sophie was a mature, sophisticated woman?

"So you admit it!" Tessa fumed, pointing a finger at him. She narrowly missed poking Sophie in the eye.

"Tessa, what…" She began, but Tessa cut her off with a dark look.

"I believe I just did, yes," he nodded again, slowly this time.

Tessa momentarily lost her train of thought. Where was she going with this again?

"So who on earth is Georgina?"

Will winced at her unforgiving tone.

"How do you know…"

"I heard you two talking!" She tried and failed to lower her voice. "Now who is she?"

"Ren's older sister."

"Come again?"

"Georgina is Ren's older sister." Will looked at her as if she were a pipe about to burst, his blue eyes cautious. "She's _also_ a character in my book. A different one. I may be wrong, but I figured people would prefer to read something which involved at least one other human being."

"Oh." Tessa took a step back. Her face fell. "I see."

Once again she'd gotten ahead of herself and judged him.

He hadn't been playing them after all. It made sense that he would ask two different people for advice on two different characters.

What was happening to her?

"Is everything okay here?" Sophie asked warily, looking between the two of them.

"Fine," Tessa whispered. "Sorry." Then she looked back up at Will as Sophie slipped out from between them, chagrin colouring her expression. "God, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. Not today or…before. I honestly don't know what came over me. There's just been so much going on and then…no." She shook her head. "No, there's no excuse. I'm sorry. I've behaved awfully towards you and though you have every reason not to, I hope you'll accept my apology."

She gazed at him through her eyelashes, anxiously awaiting his response.

"I do," he finally said, his mouth quirking up at the corner. "I accept it."

"Thank you," she breathed, her shoulders relaxing. It felt as if a great weight had just been lifted from her. "I hope we can…"

Tessa stopped herself.

She was about to say, 'I hope we can start over,' but then her gaze had drifted downwards and fallen on his t-shirt.

Unlike the last time, this one was black.

But across the front, in white lettering, were the words: _Thomas makes me Hardy._

-o-O-o-

"So let me get this straight," Isabelle pulled Clary to the edge of the corridor. Simon stood to the side of her, the two of them towering over the redhead. "You're not even allowed to date?"

"Nope," Clary shook her head. "All romantic interactions are strictly forbidden."

"For a whole month?"

"For a whole month."

"Clary, what the hell were you thinking?" Isabelle's mouth dropped open.

"I don't know," she moaned, leaning back against the wall.

The pact had seemed like a great idea at the time. She was so angry at what Raphael and Jem had done to her and Tessa and the fact that they'd had the power to hurt them so much in the first place, that a month without men sounded like the perfect solution. But only four days in, she was already starting to regret it.

Now that she was bound by a pact to keep away from them, every guy she saw suddenly looked infinitely more appealing. It was the whole 'Forbidden Fruit' effect. Even her lecturers were beginning to look attractive.

And it's not like her new neighbour needed the extra help anyway.

_Ah. _

_Jace._

Every time Clary thought of Jace she felt even more frustrated with herself. Why did everything have to be an ultimatum wherever she was concerned? Why couldn't she have just waited a couple of days, let herself calm down and then re-evaluated the situation?

Him moving in below her was the perfect set-up. She could have faked being locked out so he'd be forced to invite her in, or invented a myriad of other problems for him to come up and fix. The possibilities were endless. But instead, she was powerless. She was doomed to pine after him in secret and keep her feelings to herself.

She hadn't run into him again since the night of the power-cut, but she knew it was only a matter of time. Especially since she lingered for a minute longer than necessary every time she passed his door.

Okay, so she couldn't have him. But the way she saw it, it didn't hurt to enjoy the view. And what a view it was…

"Well," Simon said, snapping her out of her lust-filled thoughts. "If you need any encouragement, I could always send you pictures of Eric skinny-dipping in the big Hyde Park pond. That'd be enough to put anyone off of men."

"Permanently," Isabelle added, grimacing.

When Clary looked at them questioningly he added, "It was a dare."

"Thanks guys," Clary laughed weakly. "What would I do without you?"

"You'd make stupid pacts that had no benefit whatsoever," Simon grinned.

"That was rhetorical," she glared at him, before pushing herself off the wall. "Right, as much as I love hearing you guys make fun of me, I'm going to be late for my lecture. If I can't have any proper dates, the least I can do is make it to one of Fade's sessions on time."

"Draw him some flowers or something," Isabelle winked. "I hear carnations are his favourite."

"I'll bear that in mind."

And with that, she made her way to the basement lecture theatre where Malcolm Fade would be running her evening art class. She knew she probably could have done without the extra help - she was easily one of the best artists on her course – but she was so taken by Malcolm the first time she met him that she couldn't help but turn up to everything he ran.

He was Clary's favourite lecturer, partly because she was his favourite student, but also due to his eccentricity. Her classmates thought he was as mad as a box of frogs, but she found his unorthodox teaching style quite refreshing.

As it turned out, he was late, so Clary simply took a seat on the fourth row up and settled back, closing her eyes.

And then, as she found herself doing so often of late, she thought of Jace.

She thought about the way he'd looked at her when she told him about the power cut. How he smiled without really smiling, the amusement plain in his golden eyes. They were such a peculiar colour. She'd seen people with light hazel eyes before, but his were too bright to be just hazel.

They shined like…well, gold.

And then there was the way he _spoke._

That deep, sultry tone he used that was almost more attractive than his face.

Yes, Jace Herondale was definitely the new romantic interest of her hypothetical situations.

"Hey, trouble," he'd whisper to her, his voice loaded with suggestion.

"Hey, hot stuff," she'd reply, the hint of a smile pulling at her lips.

"Steady on, Clary," he laughed. She loved the sound of his laugh, light and breathless. "We've only just met."

"Not in my head we haven't."

"Is that so?"

Clary froze as something brushed her arm and her eyes flew open. Just inches above her face, leaning over her, were the pair she'd been dreaming of.

"Jace?!" She flew out of her chair and managed to smack heads with him in the process.

"Ouch," he laughed again, rubbing at his forehead. He was sat in the row above her, directly behind her seat. Even though she was now standing she still managed to be shorter than him.

"Oh shit!" She gasped, clutching her own head. "Jace, I'm so sorry."

"It's alright," he grinned, removing his hand. "No blood, no foul. See, I'm fine."

She thought that yes, he was very fine indeed.

"I'm such an idiot," she groaned. "As usual."

"I forgive you," he said, now trying to keep a straight face. "You didn't seem exactly…aware of your surroundings."

"Why do you say that?" Clary dropped into her seat, facing round so she could see him.

He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the top of her chair.

"I think you were asleep."

"Asleep? I wasn't asleep."

"Really? Because I heard you mumbling something and at first I thought you were talking back to me, but you seemed truly surprised when you actually saw me, so I figured you were probably…"

"Asleep!" Clary jutted in, her cheeks flushed red.

_Oh God._

She'd said those things out loud.

She had actually just called Jace 'Hot stuff.'

"Yes, I was definitely asleep. I'm a really deep sleeper. Really deep. And sometimes I say absolutely ridiculous things that make no sense at all."

"I see," he said, but he didn't look like he believed her. "That must have been quite the dream you were having."

"Mmhmm," she squeaked, biting down on her lip. "I was in erm…an equatorial region. Somewhere like the Sahara Desert. Can you believe people actually live there? I mean, it's so _hot._"

"Right, of course," he nodded, but once again he didn't look convinced.

Luckily for Clary, that was the point at which Professor Fade walked in. She shifted around in her seat to face the front, trying to ignore the hands that were still to the sides of her head.

"Sorry I'm late!" Malcolm announced, his white hair sticking up in tufts around his head. He couldn't have been much older than thirty, but he'd been unfortunate enough to start greying early. "I had a slight problem to rectify with err, Professor Loss. Just talk amongst yourselves until I set up the display."

Clary hoped Jace wouldn't take up the offer, but she wasn't exactly disappointed either when his face appeared over the top of her shoulder. His arms were crossed over behind her neck, lightly brushing the skin.

"I take it Professor Loss is his girlfriend?"

"Well," Clary shrugged, refusing to look back. "So we believe, but he can't exactly confirm it. Relationships within the faculty are sort of frowned upon."

"Any other rules I should know about?"

"No," she shuddered as he leaned in closer. "That's about it."

"Good."

"Actually, why _are_ you here?" She glanced over at him, her tone coming out harsher than she intended.

"Wow, you could at least pretend you're happy to see me," he feigned hurt, his eyebrows pulling up in the middle.

"I didn't mean it like that," she sighed. "It's just weird that you're joining so late. I didn't even know you went to this university."

"I didn't," he nodded. "I still don't_._ I study Psychology at Bristol but I'm taking a break at the moment to focus on my business."

"Oh, what business?"

"My best friend and I are setting up a tattoo parlour called Jonathan-Squared."

"You're what?!"

So that was why Jonathan was in London. He'd left his degree in its last year to set up a _tattoo business. _She didn't think he could even draw!

Jace mistook her outrage for enthusiasm.

"Cool, right? We had a bit of interest back in Bristol, but we figured we'd have more luck in London if we were going to make something worthwhile out of it. That's why I took this class. I thought it might help me brush up on my skills."

"And what about your friend?" Clary tried to keep the suspicion out of her tone. It was weird to think that someone like Jace could be so close to her brother. Why couldn't he have made hot friends like that back in school? "Doesn't he want to brush up on his skills?"

"Nah, he says he's got it covered. And besides, how hard could it be? You mainly just trace over prints anyway. The best thing I'll be getting out of this course is some certificate to make our business look more legit."

"Wait, are you saying you've never taken art before?"

"I did it back in secondary school for a bit, obviously. Stopped in Year Nine."

"You didn't even take the GCSE?" Her eyes widened. Both Jonathan and Jace were clearly completely unqualified and yet they wanted to set up a business where they would be required to draw all day?

After everything she'd had to go through to persuade her father to let her take Art at university, she was actually quite irritated that these two were barging their way into her territory. How would Jace survive a university-level art class when he hadn't even had a proper lesson since he was fourteen?

"No, does it matter?"

"Of cou-"

"Clary!" Malcolm's boisterous voice interrupted her. She shuffled round in her seat and Jace bolted backwards. "What do you think, then?"

"Sorry, Professor?" She realised that he'd already started the lesson while they were still talking. Half the theatre had turned to look back at her.

"About the painting!" He pointed to an abstract picture on the display. Splashes of multi-coloured paint were haphazardly spread across a white background. "I always love to hear your insightful opinions."

"Well," she straightened up, trying to ignore all the sets of eyes faced her way. "I think it's a very interesting painting."

"Yes," Malcolm agreed. "Incredibly interesting. What do you think the painter was trying to say?"

"That he was…confused? The colours could represent his…" Clary thought on the spot. "Emotions."

"Hmmm," he nodded. "Yes, I can see that. His feelings are all over the place. Some positive, some negative, but neither winning through. Fascinating as usual, Clary. Thank you."

"No problem, Sir," she exhaled, relaxing.

"And what about your friend there?" Malcolm shifted his gaze up towards Jace. "Who are you, young man?"

"Jace, Sir," he replied, not sounding nervous at all. "I just transferred from Bristol."

"Oh!" The professor clapped his hands. "You're from the West Country. How _exotic._"

"That's one word for it," Jace laughed.

"So what do you think?"

"Sir?"

"About the painting. We've already heard Clary's delightful interpretation. I'd love to hear your more 'worldly' take on it."

Clary almost smiled with satisfaction. He'd acted all high and mighty up until this point, but now everyone would see how inexperienced Jace truly was.

"Well, of course," Jace gulped. "My take on it is indeed, very different."

_I'll bet,_ Clary thought. For once, she had the upper hand.

"I think it represents…segregation in society."

_Wow, Herondale._

"Yes?" Malcolm nodded eagerly. "Go on."

"…in the err, 1940s."

"Have you ever seen this painting before, Jace?"

"No."

The theatre was deathly silent. Clary had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing.

He was talking out of his arse. The brilliant, clever Jace Herondale who had mocked her knowledge of where a fuse box was, was finally getting his comeuppance.

How had she ever let him have such an effect on her?

_Poor guy. He should've just stayed quiet._

But then.

"Incredible," Malcolm shook his head in awe. "Absolutely inspiring. I think we should all give the young man a round of applause."

The students began to clap awkwardly and Jace sunk into his seat a little. Even Clary joined in, though she felt a little bad for him. Sarcastic applause was rare for Malcolm.

"I take my hat off to you, Jace," Malcolm tipped his head forward as if he were brandishing an invisible hat. "For you to have never seen this painting before and correctly identified that it was from the abstract expressionism era that dominated post-World-War-Two America is simply amazing."

Clary's jaw hit the floor.

"And of course," he continued. "This was a particular time of reflection where people questioned what sentiments preceded the atrocities that had been committed. The segregation of society is exactly the sort of thing that prominent artists would have been trying to convey in their work."

She swivelled her head to see that Jace was just as shocked at what the professor was saying, confirming that he had been making it all up, but then he broke out into a triumphant grin.

"Fascinating, Jace. I'm honoured that we'll have the privilege of your insight in our class this term. I feel we can all learn so much from you, and hopefully – though I doubt it – we can find something to teach you along the way."

"I'm sure there's room for improvement, Professor," Jace chuckled, dismissing him with a bat of his hand.

"What a novel attitude to have, young man. You're lucky to have him as a friend, Clary. Very lucky."

Then Malcolm composed himself and carried on with the lesson, leaving Clary dumbstruck.

"Something wrong, my lucky friend?" Jace poked his head around the side of hers again.

"Nope," she snapped. _One thing._ Would it have been so hard for her to be better than him at just one thing? Where she'd found his self-confidence attractive before, now it was just grating on her. Perhaps staying away from him wouldn't be as hard as she initially thought it would be. "Nothing at all."

"Good. I think we're going to have some fun this term, don't you?"

"Lots of fun." She crossed her arms over her chest. "Now stop distracting me."

"Sorry. I'll leave the trouble-making up to you."

She looked at him in horror, wondering whether that was a reference to the conversation she'd unknowingly had with him earlier. She'd assumed it was one-sided at the time.

He stared at her for a little while, then just when she decided it must have been a coincidence after all, he winked.

* * *

**And so the plot thickens.**

**It turns out the boys have a sneaky agenda of their own and for the first time in this fic, we have a cliffhanger! -throws confetti- It's all a slippery slope from now...**

**I actually had to do a lot more research for this chapter than I've ever done for any of my others. I didn't realise how many legal issues were involved with the whole trust fund thing so just in case any of you are lawyers, I hope I got the terms right :P **

**Thank you all for reading and I really hoped you enjoyed it. Regarding the last chapter, through some of the conversations I had with you guys, some really interesting things came up so now I'm curious about the rest of you. So, of Clary and Tessa, who would you say you most relate to? I'll give you my thoughts in the next chapter, but for now I'd love to hear what you all have to say. It's been pretty one-sided so far, but I'm sure there must be some of you out there who are like the other one.**

**Right, I'm off then. I'm in the middle of having a very teen sleepover with my bandmates and we've almost killed each other already over a game of Frustration so things are getting intense. Next round is twister.**

**My bassist would like to take this opportunity to tell you all that 'dental hygiene is very important, remember to floss.' My drummer would like to warn you off drugs and our vocalist says 'listen to the Canadian national anthem.' Wise words there.**

**Till the next time...**

**smim xx**


	4. Invitations

**Hey guys! Sorry it's been a while. As I explained to some of you, I started an internship at my favourite magazine last week - woop - but that involved me working full-time and writing for hours and hours every day, so when I came home in the evenings I just slept and didn't get round to working on this. I've gotten more used to it this week though, hence the update. As a result, I haven't been able to get through all of my replies yet - I actually fell asleep during them yesterday, so for those of you who I promised an update, that's why it didn't happen last night - but I'll get through them all in the next couple of days.**

**I'm still pretty exhausted so I'll leave all my thoughts on the Clary/Tessa thing till next time. Also, thank you for all the birthday wishes! I feel older and wiser already.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own TMI, TID or any of their characters, but I do own a crappy old boiler.**

* * *

_**A Tale Of Two…**_

**Invitations**

_20__th__ January_

Will Herondale thought he understood women.

After years of careful practice, he was certain he'd honed the act of pulling to an art. His methods were fool proof. Fail-safe. Unquestionable.

_Treat 'em mean, keep 'em keen._

Those were the words he lived by.

He was assured enough in the way that he looked that he'd never even had to try anything different. He drove women absolutely crazy. They couldn't handle his quiet amusement or his subtle indifference. Where Jace was an obvious flirt and played into their hands, Will's opposite approach had the exact same effect. There was nothing women hated more than being ignored. They despised the way they couldn't tell what he was really feeling and ached to find out.

His teasing smile pushed them to the very edge, until they felt like the only way they could claw their way back to the surface was by holding onto him.

He was their doom. But he was also their salvation.

Will Herondale was like a fallen angel.

Unyielding and unforgiving.

So in theory, there was no reason why it wouldn't work again. He'd accepted that he would have to change the scenery from his usual haunts – the kind of bold, confident girls who usually jumped him in bars and clubs wouldn't necessarily be willing to stick it out with him for a month – but other than that, he didn't think he'd have to try a different tack.

Until he met Tessa Gray.

Crazy, hot-tempered Tessa Gray.

Never before had someone made him doubt himself so much as her.

She appeared to be completely immune to his charm. Instead of getting more turned on by him whenever he teased her, she just seemed to despise him _more_. He knew he'd been rude the first day – though that was exactly what he'd intended – but the second time he returned to the bookstore, he had genuinely wanted to make amends. Obviously he noticed the other brown-haired girl and thought he might as well try his luck with her too, but in part, he did almost feel bad for how much he'd upset Tessa.

He gathered she must have had a particular affection for Charles Dickens, so as far as he was concerned, as long as he didn't insult any other authors, she should have been okay with him.

Apparently, that wasn't the case.

"But it's basically a compliment!" He'd pleaded with her, both arms braced on the threshold of the shop. Tessa's eyes blazed as she grappled with him, her own hands planted firmly on his chest.

As soon as she'd spotted the _'Thomas makes me Hardy'_ t-shirt, she hadn't even bothered with expressing her outrage. Her features simply hardened and then she tried to push him out of the shop again.

"Please, Will," she'd said, clearly trying to keep calm. He noticed it was the first time she'd addressed him by his name. She really must have been mad. "I apologised for what I did, but now I don't want to get into another argument with you so I have to feel bad about it all over again. Just don't make a fuss and leave."

"But I don't understand!" He resisted her as she gave him another shove, trying to keep his footing as his upper-half dangled outside. "I'm not insulting Thomas Hardy. I actually love Thomas Hardy! He wrote Tess Of The D'Urbervilles. Surely you must like that, eh, Tess?"

"Don't," she snapped. "Call me that."

"Just tell me what the problem is!"

"She doesn't like innuendos." This came from the other girl, the one who was looking on from behind. She'd seemed like she wanted to intervene multiple times, but obviously decided against it. "Or anything remotely sexual."

"Sophie!" Tessa's eyes bulged as she turned to gape at her friend. Will took advantage of her momentary distraction to edge back into the shop, his feet set on the welcome rug. "You are not at liberty to disclose that sort of information to strange men."

"I'm not strange," Will pouted. "I think I'm rather dashing, actually. But wait, what do you mean she doesn't like anything sexual?"

"Don't tell him a thing!" Tessa hesitated, clearly torn between trying to kick Will out or restrain Sophie. She hovered in between them, both arms raised.

"Tessa is incredibly modest," Sophie continued, despite Tessa's frenzied waving. "What? I'm sorry, Tessa, he has to know. You can't keep freaking out like this."

"Seriously?" This had peaked Will's interest. He'd never encountered a girl in her twenties who was afraid of innuendos. What was she, Victorian? "So you don't like my shirt because it's a reference to arousal?"

"Ah!" Tessa gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. Her face had turned a bright shade of pink.

"Oh, c'mon," he continued, encouraged by her reaction. "You're a fully grown woman. What are you so scared of?"

"I'm not scared! I'm just not talking about this," she shook her head frantically. She backed away from Will, but then paused again when she realised he'd just use that to get further into the shop.

"So that's why you got so mad at me the other day…" Will was pleased by this revelation. He didn't believe it was possible for a woman to take such a dislike to him so soon after meeting. If his _'Suck my Dickens'_ t-shirt had already managed to offend her before he'd spoken a word, he'd been fighting a losing battle anyway. That restored his pride somewhat. "You didn't like the meaning behind my shirt. I thought it was because of what I said."

"It is because of what you said!" Tessa glowered at him. "Charles John _Huffam…_" She paused, daring him to laugh. He stayed quiet. Just about. "Dickens is very important to me. But no, the suggestion was also rather shocking. I hated you on both counts." He noticed the way she was trying to avoid direct eye contact with him.

"Wow," Will grinned at her in appreciation. "Please, Tessa. I'm blushing."

"Just. Leave."

"Alright," he held his hands up. "I'll go. But this is not over."

"Yes, it is. It's over. It's over right now. I don't want to see you here ever again."

"Now, you don't mean that," he bit his lip, relishing the way her eyes seemed to drift towards it.

"I do. I absolutely mean it."

She didn't mean it. Not one bit.

"We'll see," he shrugged. "It's only a matter of time before you give in to me."

"You're mad," she laughed once, throwing her arms up in disbelief. "Completely delusional."

"Maybe, but so are you, love." Then he strolled out of the shop of his own accord. But just before the door shut on him, he stopped it with his foot and leant against the frame. "Mark my words, Tess - it might not be today, tomorrow or even next week, but eventually you'll be begging to be Thomas."

"I told you not to call me that!" She shrieked, then froze in her tracks as she understood the full meaning of what he'd said. Will darted away before she had the chance to yell at him again, narrowly avoiding a man in a flannel shirt on the pavement.

And that was the last he'd seen of her.

He'd come back the day after and even this morning, but both times she hadn't been there. He recognised the blonde girl from his first visit and there was some redhead with her, but his fiery prude was noticeably absent.

And that was bothering him far more than it should have done.

It took him a while to admit it, but he'd been feeling something since that evening at the bookstore. It took him even longer to figure out what that feeling was.

Regret.

He realised he may have overstepped the boundary in the last few things he'd said to her. He wasn't usually so forward and he especially shouldn't have been since he knew she was so uncomfortable with talk like that, but he couldn't help himself. Perhaps it was the frustration with _her_ indifference – at least, romantically – where it should have been the other way round, or maybe he was simply desperate to get another reaction out of her.

Either way, he'd taken the encounter as a challenge.

Tessa wasn't going to be the first girl to ever turn down Will Herondale.

He wouldn't give her that satisfaction.

Whether it involved him stepping up his usual game or even some extreme sucking-up, Will was determined that somehow, he would crack the grey-eyed enigma. She may not have been cut out for trust-fund-girlfriend material – he doubted he could manage to put up with her for an entire month anyway – but he'd conquer her all the same.

So that's all he'd been thinking about.

Every moment of every day, his mind was set on how best to win over Tessa Gray. Well, whenever he wasn't thinking about food.

Or his annoying little brother who was _wearing his shirt!?_

"What the hell, Jace?" He jumped out of his chair as the blonde Herondale came waltzing out of his bedroom into the open plan living room. Will had received a pack of three literature-related t-shirts for Christmas. Two of them he'd showcased at the bookstore and now Jace was wearing the third.

It read: _Hotter than Dante's Inferno…_

"Good morning to you too," Jace nodded, pouring himself a cup of coffee. Jonathan dragged himself out of his own room shortly afterwards, still in his pyjamas.

"What do you think you're doing?" Will snapped, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Making coffee…" Jace frowned.

"I'm referring to the blatant act of theft you have just committed."

Jace looked down at the mug again. "Was this your coffee?"

"No, the t-shirt you prick! Why are you wearing my t-shirt!? You don't even like poetry."

"Oh, that! I'm just borrowing it temporarily, relax. I need it to be my wingman. Wingshirt. Whatever."

"Why exactly?"

"I decided to take your advice."

"You did?" Will dropped back into his seat in surprise. Jonathan slumped down onto the sofa next to him. "What advice?"

"About shaking things up. The places we usually go to are great for picking up girls, but not necessarily picking up girlfriends, so I'm expanding the pool. I'm heading to a poetry reading and I thought the shirt would be a good conversation starter. There's sure to be a couple of the whole naïve, committing-type there."

"Oh. Well, if it's for the cause, I guess I can let you off this time."

"Are you guys still banging on about that?" Jonathan raised his eyebrows. "I already told you, there's no point trying so hard to get into a long-term relationship. It's not worth it. Just give it time and something will come along."

"That's easy for you to say," Jace shook his head, carrying his mug from the kitchen over to the living area. "You've got girlfriends left, right and centre."

"Yeah," Will added. "Aren't you still dating those two best friends? Seelie Queen and Kaelie Whitewillow, right?"

"No!" Jonathan winced. "I technically don't have any girlfriends at all and I'm not even dating those two anymore. I ended it before we moved out of Bristol. The problem is, I don't go out seeking these relationships. They find me. I'm tragically boyfriend-zoned by everyone."

"That's not a thing."

"It is!" Jonathan said, running his hands through his hair. "I'm so attractive and witty that girls don't even _consider_ me as anything less than a romantic interest. They can't just be friends with me. I'm automatically boyfriend material. Like, I wasn't even trying to pull Celia and Katie."

"Seelie and Kaelie," Jace corrected.

"Whatever," he shrugged. "Point is, I didn't make a move on them at all. I just found out that one of Seelie's friends was moving out of a flat in London so I figured I'd ask her about it. I tried to be nice. That's all. It's not my fault she took the cup of tea the wrong way and jumped me. Same with Kaelie. She hooked me up with a potential site for the tattoo parlour so I offered her some crisps. Some _crisps._ And she didn't even take them! But how was I supposed to know that basically equated to a marriage proposal in her book? After that I couldn't get rid of either of them. They both thought I was with them. Absolutely nothing at all to do with me."

"Wow, that _is _actually pretty tragic," Will commented, completely genuine. "I'm lucky enough that girls don't expect any more from me in the first place but the thought of not being able to blow them off? You have it harder than I thought."

"I do," Jonathan nodded gravely. "I really do."

"But unfortunately," Jace interjected. "Will and I don't have that problem. Instead, we're like, fling-zoned. None of the girls we're actually interested in would be up for being with us for more than a couple of hours. It's the unpredictability they like us for in the first place. The notoriety. If we started baking with them at weekends and…" He shuddered. "_Spooning_, we'd lose all credibility. That's why I need to look for people who won't be popular enough to spread news of my sudden desire for a relationship and thereby affect my reputation. Hence," he pointed to his shirt. "Poetry reading."

"What about that girl upstairs?" Will asked. "I thought you said she was a potential?"

"What girl upstairs?" Jonathan suddenly snapped.

"Oh," Jace took a sip from his mug before continuing. "The Fray girl. Yeah, she's pretty hot. A bit zany though. I don't know if I could handle that."

"No," Jonathan shook his head wildly. "Definitely not. You wouldn't be able to handle someone insane."

"Well, she's not that bad…"

"She probably is," he insisted. "I bet she was actually downplaying it. She's likely to be a lot worse! Trust me, she sounds like bad news."

"But she's so hot," Jace laid back, his eyes glazing over. "I'm not ruling her out just yet. Obviously I'm keeping my options open, but she's on the list. It doesn't matter what she's like, anyone with eyes like that would be more than welcome to…"

"Okay, dude I get it!" Jonathan cut him off, shifting his own gaze to the ground. "Let's not talk about her anymore."

"Man, what's your problem?" Will asked, watching him suspiciously. Jonathan was never usually this interested in Jace's romantic endeavours.

"Nothing! I just don't think we should err…objectify women like that."

"I was talking about her eyes. That's hardly…"

"Someone's here!" Jonathan leapt to his feat as there was a knock on the door.

"I'll get it!" Jace also jumped up, almost spilling his coffee in the process.

"No, that's okay. You just have your drink. I'll answer the door."

"Really, I'm fine," Jace said, edging towards the door. "Besides, you're not even dressed yet."

"I don't mind," Jonathan shuffled sideways too. "Your coffee's going to get cold. Be a good boy and sit down."

"God, what has gotten into you two?" Will watched them with concern. Three more knocks came at the door. He rolled his eyes. "I'll get it."

"NO!" The two of them yelled at once.

_Great,_ Will thought. _I'm living with nutcases._

"Fine, then both of you go and open it or they'll go away."

That spurred Jace into action and he narrowly beat Jonathan to the handle, wrenching the door open as the other boy knocked into him from behind. Will groaned as coffee splashed onto the floorboards but the other two were too busy staring ahead of them.

"You're not the Dark Sisters…" The voice was male. Will peeked over the edge of his chair to see a tall, dark-haired man coated from head to toe in glitter. Another guy stood just behind him, his floppy black hair falling into his eyes. This one was dressed completely the opposite, with holes appearing in his tatty jumper and threads dangling from the hem.

"No," Jace shook his head slowly, eyeing the man. "We're blonde."

"I can see that," the man laughed. "My name is Magnus, I'm from the flat downstairs. And this is my boyfriend, Alec."

"Oh!" Jace reached out with his free hand to shake Magnus's. Alec simply nodded a greeting. "Nice to meet you. I'm Jace and this is Jonathan. Over there is my brother, Will."

Will waved lazily from his chair.

"Have you just moved in?"

"Yeah, a few days ago," Jonathan said. "The Dark Sisters don't live here anymore."

"Well, that would explain the noise. We were wondering how the old biddies had managed to keep moving from room to room so fast." Magnus grinned, revealing a set of pristine white teeth. "Are you here for long?"

"For the foreseeable future, yeah."

"Great! Well, you might as well join in with the festivities then. Alec and I were here to warn the sisters that we'd be throwing a party soon – it's my 25th birthday – but if you're up for it, why not come down? It's on the 29th January, so just over a week."

"Yeah, why not?" Jace said. "We're always up for a party."

"Awesome, it'll be a good chance for you to meet the others in this house too."

"Wait," Jonathan moved Jace out the way. "Other people from the building will be there?"

"Sure! De Quincey in Flat One isn't around much during the day but he's always up for our evening dos and I'm sure Flat Four will be there."

"Flat Four as in upstairs?"

"Yeah! Have you met…"

"Briefly," Jonathan cut him off. "Well, we might actually have something on that day…"

"We do?" Jace glanced sideways at him.

"Yeah, I was about to tell you guys today. It's just this work thing. Really important."

"Oh, well it'll be going on till pretty late so if you find time afterwards then pop over!" Magnus seemed unfazed.

"Absolutely," Jonathan nodded, starting to close the door. "Thanks for letting us know. Bye bye now."

"Bye!" Magnus called as Jonathan shut him out into the corridor.

"What was that about?" Will squinted at him.

"Nothing," Jonathan shrugged. "Jace, clean the floor will you?"

Then he walked back to his bedroom, leaving the two Herondales staring after him in confusion.

-o-O-o-

"…and make sure you carry a pot of chilli flakes with you at all times."

"Dad, is that really necessary?" Clary sighed, balancing the phone between her chin and her shoulder as she attempted to select an outfit. Isabelle sat cross-legged on her bed, occasionally nodding or shaking her head at Clary's choices.

"Is it necessary?!" Valentine gasped from the other end of the line. "Clarissa, do you have any idea what sorts of vagabonds roam the streets of London at night? You must be prepared at all times."

"Sure, Dad." She picked out a tartan skirt and threw it onto her bed.

"Clarissa, are you listening to me? You seem to be preoccupied."

"Of course I'm listening," she mumbled, taking out a woolly black jumper from her wardrobe. Isabelle gave her a thumbs up. "Vagabonds galore."

"See, it's exactly this sort of attitude which is going to get you brutally shanked."

"What?" This finally distracted Clary from her clothes and she burst into laughter. "Dad, did you just say 'shanked'?"

"Shanking is no laughing matter, young lady! I've been watching the news lately and this is the sort of language the dissident youths are using these days. It's the same as stabbing, did you know that? So if someone asks you if you'd like to get shanked, you say 'absolutely not, vagabond. I am placing you under citizen's arrest.'"

"If that were to happen, I think I'd just run away instead."

Valentine considered this for a moment.

"Hmm, that would also be a sensible course of action. But perhaps use your chilli flakes to blind them first so that their pursuit is delayed. You can't run very fast on those little legs of yours, Clarissa. Unfortunately, you did not inherit the Morgenstern stature as your older brother did."

Clary stiffened at the mention of Jonathan. From what he'd told her, only Jocelyn knew about his move to London. Their father was still blissfully oblivious to the fact he'd left university.

"There are a lot of things I didn't inherit from the Morgenstern side of the family," she said, thinking of their lack of creativity. There was no way Jonathan was going to be able to set up a licensed tattoo parlour. Absolutely no way.

"Alas, that is true," he said gravely. "But you've still got that fire inside you and I know that when the time comes, you will know what to do. The voices of our noble Swiss ancestors will speak to you in your hour of need."

"I hope so. Thanks, Dad."

"Anytime, daughter. I must take my leave now, your mother is calling me upstairs. For what, I'm not yet sure."

"Yeah, that's fine. You can go." Clary didn't want to wait around to find out. "Speak to you later!"

"What's up me when you get home from the café."

"I'll whatsapp you, Dad. Sure." She smiled to herself. "Bye, love you!"

"Good. Bye…" His voice sounded croaky. "Love you."

After a moment of silence, Clary then heard him shout, "Yes, Jocey, my English breakfast muffin?" and that was her cue to hang up.

"Gross," she shuddered, throwing her phone to the other side of the bed.

"Did he forget to end the call again?" Isabelle asked.

"As always."

Her black-haired friend laughed as Clary scooped up the clothes she'd picked out, holding them against her as she glanced in the mirror.

"So, does this say 'I'm-probably-interested-but-I-can't-show-it-for-another-three-weeks' to you?"

"Without question," Isabelle nodded. "I think the tartan skirt definitely indicates the interest, but the woolly jumper is a stark reminder that you are still cold. Romantically. Very expressive choice of outfit, Fray."

"Thank you, Lightwood." Clary moved behind the wardrobe door to get changed as Isabelle went back to texting Simon. "So, remind me why we're doing this again."

"Because Simon invited us. Eric is his friend and he wants us to be there for his poetic debut, so we're supporting him. Not Eric. We're doing this for Simon."

"Can't you support Simon alone?"

"No, that's lame. And besides, isn't it better if you're away from this house? I thought you wanted to get as far away from your hot, cocky neighbour as possible?"

Clary sighed, pulling the jumper over her head. It was true that she had said that. After the way he'd managed to weasel his way into Malcolm Fade's good books, possibly even superseding Clary herself, she found herself revaluating her feelings for Jace Herondale.

His confidence was certainly appealing to an extent, but could she deal with living in his shadow for the rest of her life?

Sometimes you could just be _too_ good.

Clary didn't think she needed too good. She wanted someone she could stand at eye level with – figuratively – and know they deserved each other. Jace was just a few inches – both figuratively and physically – too high for her.

So as soon as the lecture had finished that day, she'd rushed out of the theatre with the briefest of goodbyes and hadn't seen him again.

She knew she was definitely still attracted to him. After all, no amount of personality traits were ever going to change _that_ face. That was something she'd expected.

But his character did make him infinitely more dangerous.

Not only could she not have him because of the pact she'd made with Tessa, but also because Jace was a troublemaker.

Clary made the mistake of always wearing her heart on her sleeve, and without a doubt, Jace would rip it right off and tear it to pieces.

Might as well save on the pain and relinquish any fantasies before it was too late.

"Yeah," Clary eventually said, appearing from behind the wardrobe. "Yeah, that's probably best. Alright then, I'll go with you and support Simon. I shall bear the burden."

"She says once she's already dressed," Isabelle rolled her eyes, but grabbed her by the arm and pulled her along the corridor anyway.

The two of them ran into Tessa in the kitchen.

"Oh!" She looked up from her book. "You're ready."

"Yep!" Clary gave a twirl. "Compulsory poetry reading attire. Are you sure you don't want to come with us?"

"No, it's okay. I've got some uhm…" She looked about herself and picked up a nearby cardigan. "Washing to catch up on."

"Tessa…"

Clary hadn't been this worried about her friend in a while.

After the whole Will debacle the other day, she hadn't been the same. Tessa was too distraught to speak of what had happened, so Clary had had to ask Sophie for details. From what she'd gathered, since Will left on a rather perplexing note, by the time Tessa had started screaming at him he'd already gone. Instead, it was a flannel-clad man who had to bear the brunt of her outrage.

Unfortunately, that man was Luke.

He'd stared in wide-eyed wonder as she'd yelled a stream of curses that would most probably have given her great-grandfather a heart attack and then she'd just slumped down onto the floor.

Since that was the second time Luke had seen her so wound up – at the same guy, no less – he ordered her to take a few days off. He reasoned that she was taking the break-up with Jem much harder than she pretended to and that was affecting her judgement and her ability to remain professional. He was also rather miffed that she'd managed to scare off the custom they were getting yet again. One time was fine, but if Will could potentially have bought many items from the bookstore and she was preventing him from doing so every time, that was problematic.

And so instead, she'd spent her free time after classes wallowing in the flat.

It was clearly driving Tessa crazy because throwing herself into work was all she knew. She wasn't like Clary. She couldn't sit in silence and just relax and that particular matter was driving Clary crazy too.

In the two shifts that she'd spent at home – Clary had taken one of them while Jessamine filled in for the other – Tessa had attempted to do absolutely every job around the house, no matter how small. She'd hand-scrubbed the floor, dusted every corner and had even started washing the washing machine.

Clary didn't know how much more of it she could take. Seeing Tessa so jittery was making her just as uncomfortable. In truth, she couldn't wait for her to get back to work.

Anything to get her out of the house. She'd assumed the poetry reading would be a great idea since Tessa was so fond of literature.

She just didn't seem to want to.

"Look, honestly," Tessa said, making an effort to smile. "I'm fine. I really am. I feel fresh and rejuvenated and calm. Somehow, I think listening to Eric's abuse of poetry will actually make me feel worse."

"I'm not going to argue with that," Isabelle agreed. "I was _privileged_ enough to hear a snippet at their last band practice and yeah…wow. That was something else entirely. Not in a good way."

"Exactly."

Clary glared at Isabelle.

"I'll just…wait outside," she laughed nervously, slipping out of the kitchen and walking out onto the landing.

"Is this really about Eric's poetry?" Clary asked, pulling out the chair opposite her flatmate. "Or was Luke right, that this whole thing is to do with Jem?"

"Jem?" Tessa raised her eyebrows. "This doesn't have anything to do with Jem."

"Then why are you acting like this?"

"Because of _him_," she huffed. "Will. The guy from the bookstore. I don't know how he just manages to get under my skin like that. No one's ever been able to make me so irrationally angry before. It's no wonder Luke told me to go home. I yelled at the poor guy. I'm Tessa Gray. _I don't yell_."

"But maybe the reason you're losing it with Will, is because you're still mad at Jem and you just don't want to believe that. You don't want to own up to the fact that you don't agree with what he did."

"That's not…"

"It's okay," Clary insisted. "You're not being selfish for wishing he hadn't gone. It's a completely natural reaction."

"Clary, I'm fine."

"No, you're really not."

"Yes, I…"

"Oh my god!" This came from Isabelle. She ran back into the apartment. "Clary, I saw him! The blonde guy from downstairs you were talking about, and I can completely see…"

"Who?"

Isabelle cut off immediately as Tessa turned a questioning gaze onto the two of them.

"Who is she talking about? You didn't tell me you'd met the new neighbours."

"Ermm…" Clary began to panic. She had no idea what to tell Tessa. That girl could read her as if she were one of her books so if she mentioned Jace, she knew she'd give something away to alert Tessa to the fact she liked him. She'd probably blush or break out into a cold sweat or start fidgeting.

And then Tessa would know how dangerously close she was to breaking the pact.

Tessa would know how weak she really was.

"My brother," Clary said instead. If it came to deciding what was more humiliating – her brother living downstairs or not being able to stay away from guys for even a whole week – with Tessa, she decided it was the latter. "Jonathan lives downstairs."

"What?" Tessa got up. "You didn't tell me that! I should go introduce myself…"

"No, no!" Clary jumped out of her chair and stood in front of her. "I didn't tell you because he made me promise not to. He doesn't want anyone knowing he's my brother."

"Oh, how strange."

"Yeah, he's really strange. Best to stay away." Clary pulled on Isabelle's sleeve. "Come on, Iz, we're going to be late."

"Right, yes!" Isabelle giggled again. "So late. We should go."

"We should."

"Well, okay then. I'll respect his wishes. You guys have fun!" Tessa eyed them warily as the two girls shuffled out of the door.

"We will!" Clary smiled. "Lots of fun." Then she pulled the door shut behind them.

"Isabelle Lightwood, one of these days I'm going to offer you up as a sacrifice and I'm not even going to be sorry."

-o-O-o-

Tessa hummed to herself as she stepped into the shower. She'd struggled to cope with being at home initially, but her new philosophy had helped her come to terms with it much quicker.

_A clean home makes for a clean mind._

And she figured that applied to everything. Her room, her kitchen, herself. As long as she kept everything nice and clean, she'd be at peace too.

Apart from her brief outburst at the table with Clary, she'd managed to avoid thinking of anything that might upset her fragile balance.

She smiled as the warm water cascaded over her.

She was calm and collected. Just like she'd always been.

Everything was neat and tidy, the tiles were gleaming and so was her mind.

Absolutely nothing could have ruined a moment as perfect as this.

Until.

"Aah!" She screamed as the once-pleasant streams turned to icy waves down her back. "What in the bloody, shitty…"

She slapped her hand over her mouth before she could swear any more.

The balance was clearly even more fragile than she'd anticipated.

Was this it?

Was she losing it?

She stepped out of the freezing water and wrapped her towel around her, slipping on her sandals.

_It's okay_, she thought, trying to compose herself. _Just need to reset the boiler._

In a house as old as the one they lived in, the boiler was always conking off so you'd unexpectedly lose the hot water. As long as she pressed the red button, it would reset itself and return to normal.

She opened up the airing cupboard in the kitchen and reached to fix the boiler, but nothing happened.

She pressed the button over and over again. The same button they'd always press and after a minute or so, everything would be working again. Except, this time it wasn't.

"Why?" She wailed. "Why do you keep doing this to me? I'm a good person." Tessa began to sob. "I cleaned up the house, I sent a handwritten letter to Aloysius, what more do you want from me?"

After a while, the cold began to get to her so she snapped back into action.

She wouldn't be beaten so easily. Not Tessa Gray.

And so she began the search for the manual. Though she'd nagged Clary for not listening to her when she went through the emergency procedures, Tessa wasn't exactly much better. She'd tried to read all of the instruction manuals for the appliances around the house – as she considered was her responsibility and obligation-, but had given up by the time she'd gotten to the oven and had never found the motivation to force her way through the other ones.

When it came to fixing the boiler, she didn't have the foggiest.

Eventually she found the booklet within the pile she'd arranged in the bathroom, but upon flicking through it, she found it was just as useless. She noticed the error message on the boiler matched up to the one on the page, but all it said was 'pressure error.' It didn't tell you how to fix it at all.

"I know there's an error, you stupid piece of…" She stopped herself again.

_Breathe._

Tessa decided there was one more option. She grabbed the phone and dialled Clary's number.

She knew the chances were slim, but if there was the slightest possibility that she had any idea about plumbing…

"Yes?" Clary answered on the tenth ring. "Tessa?"

"Clary!" Tessa tried to sound as bright and cheery as possible. "I don't suppose you have a wrench, do you?"

"Err…right now?"

"No, I mean, did you happen to pack one when you moved in?"

"I can't say I did, why?"

"Well, you see…" Tessa paused. "The boiler has had a pressure fault and I need it to fix the flux valve and adjust the time capacitor."

She'd seen Back To The Future recently and hoped that by using those sorts of words, Clary wouldn't get wind of the fact she had no idea what she was talking about.

"Okay," Clary sounded dubious. "Have you tried fixing those…things with your hands?"

"They won't give," Tessa shook her head. "Unless you have any other ideas?"

If ever Clary were going to surprise her, now would be the right time.

"Nope, not a clue."

"Maybe I should ask your brother then." Tessa noticed how uneasy she was when they talked about her brother earlier, so maybe if that were the other option, Clary would be forced to dig deeper?

There was silence on the other end.

_Good, she's thinking._

"Yeah, alright," Clary then said.

"Wait, what?"

"You can ask him, but remember, don't mention that you know who he is. Just ask for Jonathan. Actually, that bit is the most important. Ask for Jonathan. Not Jace. _Jonathan._"

"Clary, are you sure-"

"He might have a wrench so you can fix the valve and capacitor thingy."

"Right," Tessa gulped. "He might. Well, thanks Clary."

"No, problem!"

Tessa put the phone down, frowning. That hadn't worked at all.

But then she got up.

Clary could believe that she was just asking Jonathan for a wrench, but if they really were trying to avoid each other, Tessa could ask him for help with the whole thing and she'd never need to know about it.

Before she could overthink it, Tessa stalked out of the front door and made her way down the set of stairs that led to Flat Three.

She hated asking for help. Absolutely despised it. But Tessa hadn't exactly been herself lately and she knew it. It was no use being stubborn when this would have been the end result anyway.

That's what she told herself as she reached up to knock on the door, then stopped herself as she noticed her arm.

It was completely bare, still dripping with water.

She noticed with horror that she was still wearing just her towel and yet here she was, standing outside an apartment full of men.

Tessa turned and was about to run back up the stairs when the door behind her cracked open.

She spun around and almost bumped straight into a tall blonde.

He looked just as stunned as she was.

"Err…hello," he said, taking a step back.

"Hello," Tessa squeaked, wrapping her towel around herself tighter. "I must apologise for my indecent state. You see, I was in the shower and the boiler broke down so…"

"That's okay," he laughed, crinkles appearing at the corners of his eyes. "I didn't assume that's how you usually dress."

"Of course," she blushed, looking down.

"So, was there something you wanted or…?"

"Well, I…" She steeled herself. "Actually, yes. Are you Jonathan?"

"Yep," he replied. "That's me."

"Oh thank god!" Tessa sighed with relief. It was only Clary's brother.

"That's what I always say," he smirked. "I'm quite the miracle, I know."

"My name's Tessa," she went on. "I live upstairs."

"With Clary?" He took on a strange tone when he said her name.

"Yes!" She nodded, realising he must have been wondering whether she knew who he was. "With Clary. She just mentioned we had new neighbours and err…do you know anything about boilers?"

"Something else gone wrong, has it?" He grinned.

"Something else?" She creased her eyebrows.

"Well, like I told Clary, normally I'd love to help and have a look at it, but I'm afraid I'm in a bit of a rush at the moment. I'm already really late to this thing I was going to."

"Oh, that's okay."

"But I'm sure my brother will give you a hand."

"Your brother?" Clary didn't mention having two brothers, but then again, she didn't speak about her family that much. She'd talked about Jonathan briefly in the past, but it didn't seem like a topic she was that fond of discussing. Perhaps her other brother was so bad he didn't warrant mention at all.

"Yeah, he won't mind. It's not like he's been doing anything all day." Jonathan peeked his head back through the door. "Oi, twathead. Get over here. Your services are required."

"It's really okay," she said. "I'll try and figure it out."

"No, it's fine. He'll help you. I've got to make a move though. See you later, Tessa."

"Yep," she smiled awkwardly, clutching at the towel again.

_What am I doing?_ She groaned internally. Why didn't she just say goodbye and go upstairs to get changed, then come back down? One man had seen her half-naked now. Was it really necessary to make that number a two?

Seconds later, the door flew open again and Tessa found herself wishing she had run off after all.

The colour drained from her face as her gaze locked onto those deep, blue eyes.

"Oh no."

* * *

**Oh yes.**

**Things are about to kick off in the next chapter for both of the girls. I don't intend on sleeping for the entirety of this weekend like I did with the last one, so updates should be back to normal come Saturday/Sunday.**

**In the meantime, please let me know what you think! Oh and I'd also love to hear your theories on where I'm going with this or what's going to happen to a particular character. I had some really interesting ones last night. Some were on the mark, some were way off. Obviously I won't tell you for sure.**

**Thanks again for bearing with me and reading!**

**Till the next time...**

**smim xx**


	5. Misunderstandings

**-nervous high-pitched voice - Hiiiiiii. So I'm back. This isn't the Saturday I had in mind, but it's a Saturday nevertheless. I'm sorry for keeping you all waiting so long. My internship was completely draining me (even though it was really fun) so I was too exhausted in the evenings to do much other than watch Death Note. Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed/messaged me, I'm really sorry I didn't back to any of you. If it makes you feel any better, I neglected _everyone_ so you're all equally as special. Including my IRL friends. A lot of them wanted to meet up while I was in London but I was like 'nah mate gotta sleep bye' every single night, so I have been an impartial arsehole. I feel like I should get that tattooed somewhere.**

**But yeah, the internship is now over so I have the rest of my exciting life back and I'm going to spend it all with YOU GUYS. WOOP. Who's bringing the pizza?**

**Without further ado lovelies...**

**Disclaimer: I do not own TMI, TID or any of their characters. Our boiler did break down though. And our neighbour did come up to help us. Ben is such a babe.**

* * *

**_A Tale Of Two…_**

**5. Misunderstandings**

_20th January [Part Two]_

Clary sighed, watching her coffee swirling round and around in her mug as she attempted to block out the train wreck that was Eric's poetry. He'd been going for about five minutes straight now and showed no sign of stopping anytime soon, much to her dismay. When Isabelle had mentioned how bad it was, she'd hoped she was exaggerating.

Now she realised that the only way her friend could have possibly exaggerated is if she said his poetry killed people.

Like, literally made people drop dead because they couldn't live on this earth any more.

In fact, that didn't seem too far off the truth either.

Luckily, Miss Lightwood had her boyfriend to keep her sane as she and Simon were currently making out behind one of the partitions in the café, which left Clary utterly and miserably alone. So much for being here for Simon. He wasn't even completely here himself. She was left to bear the full brunt of Eric's questionable metaphors and distressing abuse of onomatopoeia by herself.

The worst part was that the rest of his audience – albeit small – didn't seem to mind his rap-infused interpretation of the English national anthem 'Jerusalem' at all. A red-haired girl sitting nearest to the stage looked completely enamoured by him, her eyes unfocused as she gazed up at his poncho-clad form. Clary caught Eric winking at her at one point, clearly having noticed her eyelash-batting and made some comment in between poems about how he was fully aware of how much words could touch people and the unique ability poets had of going where no one else could dare.

Clary had almost walked out at that point.

As Eric then paused and announced he was about to recite his final poem of the night – 'Jugs To Fill A Nation' – Clary decided she'd had enough and was about to make her escape when she heard an achingly familiar voice.

"…especially the post-World-War-Two abstract expressionism era," he was saying. "I find the way that the victims of segregation in society were able to express their anguish through art to be quite poignant."

She swivelled in her chair to see none other than Jace Herondale leaning towards a girl she recognised from one of her lectures, Helen Blackthorn. The two of them sat at a table a few yards behind her own, though neither seemed to have noticed her staring.

"Really?" Helen replied, looking more amused than anything else. She didn't push Jace away, but she wasn't exactly reciprocating his interest either. "I didn't take you for a lover of the fine arts."

"I'm a lover of anything remotely fine," he smirked, reaching out to brush a strand of her blonde hair back. "But some things are more beautiful than others. Almost painfully so."

Clary gritted her teeth.

She wasn't usually a violent person. Not unless her brother was involved. But she was suddenly overcome with a very real desire to slap Jace across his irritatingly perfect face.

"Like abstract expressionist art?"

"Among other things," his smile widened and he ran his fingers along Helen's arm.

Clary didn't understand why this bothered her so much.

Helen was nice enough and with her almost elvish features, she was certainly very beautiful. Tall and slender, she was probably the very definition of Jace's type.

It wasn't at all unusual that he should be making a pass at her.

So why was it that a couple of seconds later when he leaned in even closer, Clary found herself at their table, slamming her hands down in between them?

"Jacey!?" Clary gasped, as the startled blondes suddenly jumped apart. "When did they let you out?"

"L-let me out?" He stuttered, fumbling for words for the first time she'd ever seen him. "Of where…I mean, what?"

"You know," she tipped her head towards his conspiratorially. "The institute."

"What institute?" Helen asked, her light eyebrows creasing together in puzzlement.

"Oh," Clary waved her off. "It's no big deal. It's more of a hotel, really. Like, a long-stay hotel for people who are a little bit – how should I put it? – confused. Do you follow?"

"Yes," Helen nodded warily. She moved out of her chair slowly. "I think so."

"How am I confused?" Jace said, his eyes wide.

"You're not," Clary patted him on the head, intentionally messing up his hair. She briefly registered how soft it was and how any other time, she would have cherished the moment properly. For now though, it was strictly business. "Of course you're not. It's perfectly normal to have World War Two flashbacks."

"Flashbacks?"

"He thinks he was a lieutenant in the Battle of the Ardennes," she whispered to Helen. "That's why he's so interested in the art. It's the only thing that keeps him from participating in re-enactments."

"Re-enactments?" Helen was on her feet now.

"Yeah, like the recreational kind," Clary said, her voice as innocent as she could manage. "Except, sometimes he finds it difficult to, y'know, differentiate between what's a game and what's real life. I found him in the kitchen brandishing a rolling pin once. He thought it was a machine gun."

"How…resourceful."

"That's what I said," Clary grinned. "Perhaps you could accompany him to one of the official meet ups? I'm sure he'd love that."

"That's okay," she backed up. "I'm probably busy that day. Besides, I should go…"

"Oh, you don't have to do that! He won't make you pretend to be the shell-shocked widow of a dairy farmer if you don't want to be. There's a local pub wench. Enemy seductress. Lots of role play fun. Just be careful if you're the enemy, because he gets carried away sometimes and may accidently stab you…"

"Wait!" Jace reached out. "Don't listen to her."

"Goodbye, Jace," Helen smiled tentatively, before snatching her purse off the table and running out the door.

"Helen, please don't go! He's better on the meds!" Clary feigned disappointment as she called after her, then when she was satisfied the other girl wasn't returning, she slumped down into the nearest chair, pleased with her efforts.

It was only when she noticed Jace's deadly glare that the smile was wiped off her face.

"Fray," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "What the hell was that?"

Clary hesitated, but only for a moment.

"You're welcome," she said, leaning back into the chair. "That was a close one."

"What are you talking about?"

"I was saving you, obviously."

"Saving me from what, exactly?" He snapped, almost breaking her resolve.

"Public ridicule. Inevitable heartbreak. Take your pick," Clary shrugged, managing to stay aloof despite his obvious anger. "Helen likes girls."

That brought him up short.

"What? No, she doesn't. She was very into me."

"She's been trying to convince herself she doesn't for a while, but it's obvious she's in love with Aline Penhallow. You would have been nothing but a meaningless fling."

"Well, that's perfect!" He suddenly spluttered. "I'd love to be a meaningless fling."

"Did you not hear me? She likes girls."

"Before she met me, maybe," he ruffled his hair, that arrogant grin creeping back onto his face.

"And now she probably likes them even more."

Jace pouted at her. "You wound me, Fray."

"You wound yourself. And what was all that crap about abstract expressionism? If you really want to pull around here, at least be honest. No one's going to believe you actually know what you're talking about."

"If I recall correctly," he pointed at her. "Your lecturer did. But of course, what would a university professor who specialises in that sort of thing know?"

"Apparently he had a lapse of judgement," she said, rolling her eyes. The memory still irked her but she was sure it wouldn't set a precedent for the rest of the semester. She was Malcolm Fade's best student and that's how it would stay.

"I still don't believe you." Jace said while picking apart a chocolate muffin. "I don't think you scared her away because you were worried for me. No matter what other people believe, I don't think you're quite that noble."

"What would you know about being noble?"

"I'll have you know that I am the most noble bachelor in all the land."

"By whose reckoning?"

"Mine, of course. I need no other to validate my claims, such is my nobility." Clary found that hard to believe considering his mouth was half full of muffin as he spoke, but she bowed her head anyway.

"Alright your majesty, I apologise for having doubted you."

"Apology not accepted. You'll have to make it up to me. For doubting my nobility _and _scaring away my meaningless fling."

"What do you propose?"

Jace held a hand up, waiting until he was done eating before he spoke this time. He followed the muffin with a sip of his own coffee, then grabbed the legs of Clary's chair and scooted her towards him as if she were no heavier than a Cabbage Patch kid. Her breath caught as she suddenly found herself just inches away from him.

"You'll have to find me a replacement," he said, completely earnest. His golden eyes bore into her, not a trace of amusement within them.

Clary didn't know what to say.

She could barely even remember how to speak.

Was he suggesting what she thought he was suggesting? Was _she_ the meaningless fling he wanted?

She knew she couldn't say yes. Pact or not, she wasn't the sort of girl to jump into bed with the first guy who made her heart beat a little faster than normal. Jace was wild. Unpredictable. A player, by all means.

And of course, the pact wasn't something she could forget. Even if she did know him better, even if she loved him, she couldn't be with him until after Valentine's Day.

She couldn't be with anyone at all until then.

She couldn't say yes.

So why couldn't she say no either?

Instead, Clary just gaped at him, agonisingly aware of how little distance stood between them. If she shifted just slightly to the left, she knew her leg would brush his.

He was strong and intimidating and beautiful, but oh, how that sent a thrill through her!

It was completely primal, she knew. From what she'd seen of Jace so far, he wasn't the sort of guy she could spend extensive amounts of time with without wanting to gouge his eyes out. He wasn't relationship material. She wasn't relationship available.

But what exactly had the pact entailed? No more boyfriends? No more first dates?

Where did Tessa stand on a one-off night of passion with an infuriatingly hot blonde?

Clary once again cursed herself for even bringing it up in the first place. She'd gotten herself into this own mess, but then she'd also been the one to set out the terms for the pact. No 'men' is specifically what she'd said.

But Jace wasn't a man.

Jace was a god.

A very sexy, very manly god amongst men.

As long as there were no feelings involved, he wouldn't have the chance to hurt her. And after all, wasn't that what this was all about? Tessa and Clary were fed up of being messed around. Fed up of disappointment. The pact was a fail-safe against that.

But with Jace, disappointment wasn't possible. She had low expectations of him to begin with.

As time stretched on, she found herself entertaining the fantasy more and more.

Just one night. One night with someone who knew what they were doing. No strings attached. Would that be so awful?

But as her luck would have it, the entire dream came crashing down around her with his next words.

"Set me up with your flatmate."

-o-O-o-

"Tess?" Will was even more surprised than she was, his eyebrows flying so high that they were completely hidden by his mop of black hair.

"No," Tessa shook her head again, taking frantic steps backwards until she felt the staircase come up behind her. "This is not happening."

"How…" He began to ask, then his eyes strayed downwards and fell on her attire. Or rather, lack thereof. His mouth quirked up. "This is erm…unexpected."

"No!" Tessa squeaked, hiding her face behind her hands as if that would somehow make her more modest. "Not happening. Definitely not happening."

How could he be here?

How could the man of her nightmares be living just feet away from her?

Was there no justice in this world?

"Tess, calm down. It's just me."

"That's the bloody problem!"

"Look, Tess…"

"And stop calling me that!" She shrieked, her voice rising a few more octaves. She looked up to see that he had his hands held out in front of him in the universal sign of surrender. Tessa settled with wrapping her arms around her, ensuring her bath towel was tight and secure.

She found herself cursing Clary.

Since most of Tessa's clothes were in the wash, she'd had to borrow one of Clary's towels for the shower, but where on the shorter girl they were almost full-length, they stopped mid-thigh for Tessa. She wasn't sure she'd ever revealed this much skin in her entire life.

"Alright, I'm sorry. Just take a deep breath and let's work through this. We'll figure it out."

"There's no 'we' about it," she snapped. "Just go back inside and forget this ever happened."

"Unlikely, Tess..." Before she could yell at him again he hastily added: "…a."

"Will, please just-"

"My brother said you needed help. Don't be stubborn about this just because it's me. Whatever you need, let me do it for you."

"That's not necessary," she shook her head vehemently. "I can do it myself."

"Then why did you come down here? You don't strike me as the kind of person who asks for help unless they really need it. You must have been in some trouble to bother asking people you barely know."

"I don't barely…" She stopped herself. The only reason she could justify knocking on their door was because Clary had told her to. She'd said that her brother may have been able to help her.

Tessa froze.

She'd met Clary's brother. Jonathan was the one who'd answered the door, but he was on his way out.

Then Jonathan had said that _his_ brother would help her.

His brother who would, by logic, also be Clary's brother.

Which meant…

"No!" Tessa gasped.

Will was Clary's brother.

Will Herondale was the brother of her beloved best friend.

She'd discovered his last name after seeing that he'd signed up to make a donation to the bookstore. It was strange that they had different names, but Clary had mentioned she used to have a double-barelled surname and that she'd shortened it to the first half. It was possible that the original surname used to be Fray-Herondale. The boys used the second half, while Clary was a Fray.

They looked nothing alike, but then again, Tessa and Nathaniel didn't have much in common either. Apart from the brown hair that they both shared, their features were completely different. Nathaniel looked more like their father, whereas Tessa took on more Starkweather traits.

Her world spun.

"Careful," Will reached out to steady her, his hands encircling her shoulders. "You're about to faint, Tessa. Did you hit your head or something? Was that the problem?"

"What?" She looked up at him in confusion. "No, I didn't…" Then she realised he was touching her and jerked out of his grip with another yelp.

Her heart spluttered to a halt.

He'd touched her.

Possibly more intimately than anyone had ever touched her.

This was a girl who had a two-week hand-holding rule for boyfriends and yet Will Herondale had just held her _naked _shoulders.

Completely bare.

Just a small slip of material separating them from unspeakable intimacy.

Tessa had to hold onto the banister for fear of fainting for real as she was consumed by mortification.

"Ah," Will finally said, somehow understanding what was going through her head. "The prude thing. Sorry, I shouldn't have leapt out at you like that. I was just worried you were going to fall and hurt yourself."

"Shhh…" She held a finger up at him as she focused on a spot of paint on the carpet and attempted to get her breathing back under control. "It didn't happen." Deep breath. "Nothing happened." Another breath. "Nothing is happening." Deeper breath. "Nothing will ever happen."

"Hey now," Will chuckled. "Let's not rule out our inevitable future together. I've already got the kids' names picked out."

"Stay back," she warned him, edging towards the bottom of the staircase. "I'm going to go back to my place, you go back to yours."

"And I already told you – unlikely. My services are clearly required and I'm not going anywhere until I have served."

Tessa cursed under her breath. He was possibly more stubborn than she was.

"Fine," she said, another line of thought coming to her. "Let me go and get changed, then I'll come back for you."

"Nope," he shook his head. "You'll just lock the door and pretend you forgot all about it."

_Damn._ How did he have her sussed out already?

"Just show me what the problem is," he insisted. "I'll keep a safe distance, I promise. Since you don't normally walk around in so little clothing, not to mention dripping wet, I'm guessing something happened while you were in the shower. So, you can either let me have a look at it or you can freeze to death."

"I'd rather freeze to death," she said automatically, but her chattering teeth gave her away. The cold was definitely getting to her.

"Tessa, please." The sincerity in his voice made her look up. Will stared straight back at her, his blue eyes wide. "I understand if you're still mad at me, but you have to believe that I didn't mean to upset you. I was just having a laugh, that's all. You apologised to me that day, but honestly, it should have been the other way round. I'm sorry I'm such an arsehole. I'm sorry if I offended you. We clearly got off on the wrong foot, but I'd really like to start over. Especially if we're going to be living so close…"

Tessa paused as she mulled his words over. She couldn't tell if he was putting on a front or not, but there was some truth to his words. If they were going to be neighbours, it would make life a lot easier for the both of them if they could just get along.

And then there was the other matter.

Clary.

She knew the situation between her and her brother, or _brothers_ rather, was tentative enough already. She didn't need to exacerbate it.

"Alright," she finally said. For Clary. "The pressure's gone in the boiler."

"That," he suddenly grinned. "I can fix. Let me grab my tool kit and I'll meet you up there."

He hesitated just before he was about to go back into his own flat, looking at Tessa expectantly.

"Don't worry," she rolled her eyes. "I won't lock you out."

Then as he disappeared behind the door, she trudged up the staircase resignedly. This was far from the perfect situation, but her great-grandfather had raised her to be a polite, respectful young woman. She'd tolerate Will Herondale.

For Clary.

True to her word, she left her front door on the latch and Will pushed himself through it just seconds later. She pointed him towards the boiler.

"Over there."

He waved a wrench at her and saluted with it.

"Right you are ma'am. It's a nice place you've got here. Very…clean."

"Thank you," she said, hovering awkwardly behind him.

He inspected the boiler then nodded to himself, unscrewing a wooden panel just below it.

"Just need to adjust the pressure valves. No big deal."

"Ah," Tessa perked up. So what she'd made up to say to Clary hadn't been all that far off. "That's what I suspected."

"Of course," he said, his voice muffled from his position beneath the boiler. Tessa had to avert her eyes as his shirt rode up slightly and felt her shoulders burn from where he'd touched her earlier. She looked down at herself, almost expecting to see visible handprints. "I'm sure boring instruction manuals are right up your street given your love of Dickens."

That distracted her completely from all potentially heated thoughts.

"How dare y…" She began, her face reddening, but Will just laughed.

"Relax, love. I'm just joking. You should know by now not to take anything I say seriously."

"Should I?" She mumbled to herself, but decided to let it go. She had to be the bigger person here.

For Clary.

After a bit more fiddling, Will finally emerged. He tapped the boiler and raised the wrench triumphantly when it flared to life.

"See?" He grinned. "No trouble at all. I knew spending that week with Henry would come in handy."

"What exactly did you do?" She asked him. "Just in case it happens again."

"Just call me if it happens again."

"You might not be around." Tessa hated being dependent on others. If she could avoid calling Will back up to her apartment, she'd do whatever it took.

"Suit yourself," he shrugged. "I just turned the valves until the pressure gauge returned to normal."

"Could you show me?"

"Sure." He seemed a little taken aback by her sudden curiosity, but got back down on his knees and waved her over. Tessa knelt down beside him, careful to leave plenty of space between them. "Right, see those red cogs there?"

He pointed ahead of himself and Tessa had to lean in closer to see what he was gesturing at. It was dark, but she could just about make out two red shapes.

"Yes."

"You take the wrench and you fit it around them." He whispered, wary of how much his voice was amplified by the small space. He then proceeded to demonstrate, reaching his arm out so that it knocked into hers. "Like this."

Tessa had wanted to avoid contact, but it was impossible in this proximity. She decided instead to focus on the valves, rather than his shoulder brushing against her own.

At least he was wearing clothes.

"Then you twist it," he breathed. "Really slowly and keep your eye on that meter above it. This valve pushes the pressure up." Then he tilted his head to nod towards the one next to it, bringing him even closer. "And this one pushes it down. You've just got to be really steady to make sure they meet in the middle."

"That's not so bad," Tessa whispered back.

"Not bad at all," he agreed, turning to face her. His breath fanned out across her face.

He really was quite handsome, she thought. If he didn't have the personality of a brussel sprout, she may actually have been able to like him.

"Right," she suddenly coughed, scrambling back up. "Thanks. I'll remember that."

"Yeah," he said, his voice just as croaky. He took his time rising to his feet and stretched out his arms. "If you need to borrow my tool kit, you know where to find me."

"I'll keep that in mind," she nodded.

They stood facing each other in silence for a while. Tessa wasn't sure what he wanted, but Will didn't seem in a hurry to go.

What was the etiquette in this situation? Should she offer him some tea? Give him a tip for his troubles?

She knew he probably wouldn't accept money, but for some reason, she couldn't bring herself to make the tea either. It was too intimate. She'd have no option but to make small talk.

Sure, she'd let him come upstairs to help her out, but she didn't think they were at the point for friendly conversation just yet. He still irritated her and she didn't want to give him a chance to say something else stupid and jeopardise the fragile progress they'd made. With Will Herondale, she knew it was only a matter of time before he got her worked up again. He had an uncanny ability of doing that.

It was best to stay quiet, she decided. Hopefully he'd pick up on her aversion to bonding and leave.

As it happened, he did.

"So errm…I'll just be going then." Will rocked back and forth on his feet for a moment, daring her to change her mind, then set himself back down and made for the doorway.

The boiler gurgled accusingly. She could feel it judging her.

"Wait!" Tessa called, just before he left. Will halted immediately and looked back at her. Tessa clutched her arms around herself and swallowed her pride. "I couldn't have done this without you. Thank you, Will."

"You're very welcome," he said, then gave her another one of his brilliant smiles before shutting the door behind him.

She still felt as if she should have done more, but for now a simple 'thank you' would have to suffice. Baby steps.

"Don't look at me like that," she snapped at the boiler, then shook her head mournfully before making her way back to the bathroom. "This place is driving me insane."

* * *

**You know there's a slippery slope ahead when you start talking to inanimate objects. No, not _you_ laptop. You know we're going to be together forever.**

**So there you have it! What did you think? Should Tessa have said more? Should Clary have said _less_? Anyone about to join Eric's fan club?**

**I can't fully remember all the questions I was asked last time, but from what I do remember:**

**1. Yes, I do make up all the shirt names myself so they're probably not online. They might be one day though. Who knows.**

**2. Of Clary and Tessa, I'd say I'm an even divide between the two. I definitely take on a more authoritative big sister role with people (like Tessa) and can get overly cautious when it comes to my flat, but I'm not quite as prudish as her, at least not mentally, so that's where Clary comes in. Also I'm really lazy. But overall, I'm actually more of a Will than either of them. I'm sarcastic to the point where some of my friends can't tell when I'm actually being serious these days, and I'm a little too good at pissing people off. If they piss me off first. Impartial arsehole, remember :P I also have a slightly above average number of enemies. Just slightly. Haha. Ha.**

**3. I think someone asked me if I got help with the dialogue for the boys, and the answer is no. I just have a pretty big extended family so that means _a lot_ of brothers. I'm well versed in dude speak.**

**Right, that's me done. Thanks again for reading and I'll upload again next week - for real.**

**Till the next time...**

**smim xx**


	6. Perceptions

**Hey guys! Thanks for all the great comments from the last chapter :) It was awesome to see how invested some of you guys are in these characters already. It's weird to think this is only chapter 6! Like I said to some of you, very little is actually as it seems at the moment - hence why I'm holding back on certain POVs for the time being - but it should be entertaining nonetheless...**

**Hope you enjoy it!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own TMI, TID or any of their characters. But I have read Anne Of Green Gables. And then my mother shipped the entire TV adaptation over from Canada and made me watch it. And it was very painful.**

* * *

_**A Tale Of Two…**_

**6. Perceptions**

_25th January_

Clary didn't want to talk.

Jace, however, didn't seem to notice.

He ignored the cold vibes she hoped she was giving off and shifted the rucksack from the chair next to her – not realising it was her attempt at keeping him away –, sitting himself down instead. Meanwhile, Malcolm Fade ran around the front of the lecture theatre, trying to find a technician to fix his microphone.

"Hey," he grinned, relaxing back into his seat as she continued to stare frostily ahead. "Ready to see me own the class again?"

Clary simply shrugged in response. She couldn't understand how he was so oblivious to her dark mood. They hadn't spoken to each other since the day of Eric's poetry recital, but she was still having a hard time getting over what he'd said.

_Set me up with your flatmate._

That's what he'd asked her. She thought she knew his type. She'd dared to believe that the whole scene he'd made with Helen was some out-of-the-way attempt at making her jealous. She'd dared to believe that he might actually be interested in her.

But as the fates would have it, she'd been let down once again.

Clary knew she was being irrational. Jace barely knew her. She barely knew him.

And yet she couldn't bring herself to accept that he wanted Tessa. Not her. Tessa.

Mannerly, retiring, serious Tessa Gray.

She loved her best friend, but there were some things she'd never dreamed they'd have to compete against each other in. The main thing being men.

Of course, she knew it didn't matter what Jace thought. Tessa was still very much hung up over Jem and even if she weren't, the pact prohibited her from all romantic rendezvous as well. Plus, he'd never be able to outlast the two-week hand-holding rule she stood by, let alone any other obstacles she threw his way.

It was almost laughable. Tessa Gray as a meaningless fling.

Completely preposterous.

So why was she still so upset?

"Clary?" Jace asked again.

She shushed him with a gesture and nodded towards the front of the theatre. Malcolm was still tapping away at his microphone.

"But we haven't started yet," he persisted.

She shook her head at him again and studiously took out her note book, then painstakingly flipped through it page by page until she found the first empty one. Then she spent another minute or so writing out her name, the date, Malcolm's name, the subject, even the building and number of the lecture theatre.

Anything to keep her from having to speak to him. Especially after the sorts of ridiculous things she was capable of saying.

Clary cringed at the memory. After Jace had dropped that bombshell on her, the first thing she'd said after staring at him dumbstruck was, wait for it: "Okay."

_Okay._

Not 'don't be ridiculous' or 'nah mate' or even 'she's not available.' All of those were appropriate responses. But of course, Clary never did what was appropriate.

She'd told him it was okay when as far as she was concerned, it was anything but 'okay.'

_Idiot, idiot, idiot,_ she'd cursed herself. She had no idea what had made her say it, but Jace was pacified at least.

"Good," he'd said, smirking at her. "Let me know what she says at art class."

Then he'd downed the rest of his coffee and left, claiming he had some appointment with a potential tattoo parlour venue.

And now, no doubt, the only reason he'd sat next to her was to find out Tessa's response.

Well, Clary wouldn't give him that satisfaction.

He seemed puzzled by her sudden interest in taking out a set-square and making sure all the lines in the notebook were perfectly horizontal, or vertical in the case of the margins – even she realised it was probably a little excessive – but he didn't bother her again until the end of the lecture.

At least, not directly. Apparently Malcolm hadn't forgotten what an exceptional human being he was and Jace always seemed to have some clever remark whenever he was asked for his opinion. It was obvious to Clary that he was winging his way through it all, but Malcolm lapped it right up.

There was one point where he got too overconfident and told the professor 'engine' when he'd asked Jace what type of oil he thought the Mona Lisa was painted with and Clary was sure he'd pushed it too far. But again, thanks to her rotten luck, that didn't dim the light shining out of his arse for Fade one bit.

Instead, Malcolm burst into laughter.

"Oh you joker, Mr Herondale," he giggled, wiping his eyes in delight. "You truly brighten up this class, I can be sure of that. Obviously you knew it was actually more likely to be linseed or perhaps safflower for the lighter, yellower tones."

"Oh, Professor," Jace laughed with him. "You can see right through me."

"Almost like, almost like…the varnish used to coat the painting, wouldn't you say?" Malcolm added, snorting in between his chuckles. He clutched his stomach as he leant over the lectern.

"Exactly, Sir!" Jace laughed with even more mirth. "I think you're the real joke here."

"Perhaps," Malcolm agreed, half breathless. "I was quite the class clown back in my day."

"I'm sure you were."

Clary almost cracked a smile at that. Almost. Then Jace looked over at her and she remembered she was meant to be mad at him.

"Ah, you West Country folk." Malcolm wiped away the rest of his tears and continued with the class, though he occasionally made completely absurd suggestions like how Monet was a gangster rapper who just wanted some cash, and then winked at Jace saying, "Right, Herondale?"

Clary sighed with relief when the lecture was finally over, though without Malcolm as an excuse, she knew she now had to face Jace alone. Also since he was sitting next to her and purposefully took up all the space around him, there was no way she'd be able to move past and escape. Not unless she climbed over his lap and she was too angry at him for that.

As expected, he stood up and blocked her exit, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Alright, what's wrong?"

"What makes you think anything's wrong?" Clary stared him down, as best as anyone could stare down someone a foot taller than them anyhow, and tried not to betray any emotion. "I'm absolutely fine. Normal. I'm completely normal."

"Wait!" He held his hand up to her and wrinkled his nose. "What's that smell?"

Clary inconspicuously tried to sniff her hair, wondering what he was referring to.

"Oh, I know what it is," he finally said, rolling his eyes. "Bullshit."

"That's the worst joke ever."

"I wasn't joking. Now tell me what's wrong. Is this because I took the piss out of our nutty professor?"

"He's not nutty," she snapped. "He's kind-hearted and trusting and maybe a little bit eccentric, but he's a lovely man and you should be ashamed of yourself."

"Okay, so that's part of the problem. I'm sorry," he said, though he didn't sound sorry at all. "But if I recall correctly, you were ignoring me before any of that had happened."

"Was I? I hadn't noticed."

"Unless you have some sort of right-angle OCD, you were definitely avoiding me."

"Maybe I do, maybe I don't," she said, turning away from him. "You wouldn't know."

"True," he agreed. "I wouldn't, but I'd like to think I could make an educated guess. So what is this really about?"

Clary didn't answer, mainly because she didn't want to talk to him anymore, but also because she couldn't have explained it anyway. She was sure it had everything to do with Tessa, but why? Which part of what he'd asked had bothered her so much? Was she jealous of Tessa? Did she feel insecure about her lack of height and underwhelming curves and wild mane of hair?

Or was there more?

Yes, Helen and Tessa probably were more attractive than her, but Clary had enough self-esteem to know that she possessed certain qualities that they didn't. She was far more open than Tessa, infinitely flirtier and less high maintenance.

Clary sighed, knowing perfectly well what the problem was.

She liked Jace. Too much.

He was rude and obnoxious and frustrating, but there was more to him than that. He made her laugh. He knew where the fuse box was. He flirted back.

It wasn't Tessa she had the issue with. It was every girl. Any girl that wasn't her.

She wanted Jace to herself but she'd be damned if she let him know it.

"Oh!" He suddenly exclaimed, snapping her out of her thoughts. "I've got it. Ah, Clary, why didn't you just tell me?"

Then he did the last thing she'd expected.

He spread his arms wide and enveloped her in a bone-crushing hug.

"Huh?" Her voice was muffled by his chest. It was just as hard as she'd imagined it would be, but that also meant it was difficult for her to find room to breathe. All she could take in was his scent. He smelt like coffee and peppermint.

"I wouldn't have been upset," Jace sounded as if he was choking up. He rocked her side to side. "I had no idea you cared about me that much."

Clary was breathless for a whole other reason now. How did he know what she'd been thinking? Was it that obvious?

"It's alright if Tessa said no," he mumbled. "I'm sure you can find me someone else."

_Wait. What._

Clary jerked away from him so fast he lost his hold on her.

"What?"

"Don't cry," he said, patting her cheek. "And don't be angry at her. It was her prerogative to turn me down. Besides, she doesn't really know me so I'm not taking it personally. Hush, my child."

And that's when she knew. He was playing with her yet again.

Clary burned with rage.

"With you as my wing-woman, we'll be unstoppable," he continued, smiling pitifully at her. "Now cheer up. You know what they say, if the wind blows…"

Then he winked at her and left.

She didn't think she could possibly be any angrier with him, but once again, Jace Herondale had proved her wrong.

What a prat.

-o-O-o-

_26__th__ January_

"What do you suppose happened to her?" Luke asked Tessa as the two of them peered at Clary from behind the counter. She was flitting from shelf to shelf, arranging the books that were already in alphabetical order into sub-sections such as size, colour and even texture of spine.

"No idea," Tessa shrugged, leaning next to the till.

Clary had been acting weirdly for a while now. She'd deduced it was since the night she'd gone out to the café, so Tessa assumed that Eric's poetry must have inflicted some sort of permanent trauma. Clary was suddenly cleaning, polishing, tidying up after herself and perhaps the most shocking of all – _buffing_.

Water marks weren't even something that Tessa usually bothered with, but where she had eased up on her obsessive cleaning since the shower incident, Clary appeared to have picked up the baton. Not that Tessa was complaining. It was nice to walk into the bathroom without slipping over toothpaste or soap or whatever else Clary usually left lying around.

Due to her own good behaviour, Luke had finally let Tessa come back to work and today would be her first shift since her suspension. She was keen to pick up the slack and organise the books as no doubt Jessamine and Sophie would have forgotten to do in her absence, but Clary was now taking that upon herself too.

It was a truly remarkable transformation.

Tessa was so surprised she simply sat back and let her do it.

"Well, it's good," Luke said, his gruff voice still perplexed. "I think."

"I think so too," Tessa nodded.

"Mr Morgenstern would certainly approve."

"Mr Morgenstern?" Tessa arched an eyebrow. "Is that one of her lecturers?"

"No," Luke laughed. "Her father. Valentine. We used to go to school together, didn't you know?"

"No," she shook her head, her mind whirling. "I didn't."

She hadn't mentioned the encounter with Will to Clary for fear that she might let something slip – she felt so abashed over the shoulder-touching that she almost felt like she should make a formal confession – but it had played on her mind nonetheless. She couldn't understand why Clary had never mentioned her other brother before.

But if her surname was Fray and Will and Jonathan were Herondales, how could her father be a Morgenstern? She'd never heard of triple-barrelled surnames before.

"Though technically," Luke added. "It's Mr Fray-Morgenstern. He always was a little whipped."

Not Fray-Herondale, then.

So who on earth were the boys she'd met?

"About her family," Tessa hedged, making sure Clary was out of earshot and still preoccupied with her sorting. "How many brothers has she got?"

"Just the one. Jonathan. Carbon copy of his father, that one."

Just the one.

"No half-brothers?"

"I should hope not!" Luke laughed. "I doubt Valentine even notices that women other than Jocelyn exist, but unfortunately, she's just as hung up on him. No room for sordid affairs, I shouldn't think."

Tessa's head hurt.

"What does he look like? Jonathan, I mean?"

"Like I said, just like his father at that age. Light blonde hair, very tall. All he's got of Jocelyn in him are those green eyes. Clary's got them too."

She thought back to six days ago when she'd run into 'Jonathan' outside the flat downstairs. He was definitely blonde and he was probably about six feet tall. But what colour were his eyes?

As she replayed the scene in her head, she had the faint idea that he was wearing another literary innuendo t-shirt, but she was so embarrassed by the whole predicament that she hadn't paid full attention to him. And another thing…

Had he even introduced himself as Jonathan Herondale?

No, she realised.

No, he hadn't.

He'd simply confirmed he was Jonathan and then told her his brother would help her. It was only because she knew Will's surname was Herondale that she'd assumed Jonathan's was as well. But what if they weren't brothers at all?

She was aware youths of today used terms like that for their friends. Perhaps they were just good friends?

And the only thing that mattered in all of this is that Will was probably not related to Clary. It also meant that her whole reasoning behind being civil with him was now moot, but she still felt relieved for some reason.

"Why the sudden interest in Jonathan?" Luke then asked.

"No reason," Tessa said, attempting to appear nonchalant. "I just err…I think I saw a picture of him with her, but I didn't think they looked alike at all."

"They surely don't," he nodded, then thankfully changed the topic to something less scandalous.

Clary continued with her abnormal behaviour, even insisting she didn't want to swap with Tessa half way through and sit at the till as she normally did. Tessa was probably the only one of the four girls who worked there that actually enjoyed being surrounded by the books.

Business was slow so Tessa found herself with too much time to think. The subject of Will was something she decided to set aside for later, but in its absence, someone else occupied her thoughts instead.

Jem.

She looked down at the pendant she was still wearing, wondering if she stared deep enough into it, whether he'd appear to her. It had been twelve days since she'd last seen him and though she found him frequenting her dreams less and less, it was times like this when she wished he were still with her.

Jem was more than just a romantic interest. He was one of her dearest friends and she knew he'd be able to offer the right words of comfort to her now. With Jem she felt safe, secure, at peace. He didn't drive her to cursing or impulsivity or violence. He didn't make her feel like she was losing her mind.

Jem was a haven, one she desperately needed right now. But of course, he was probably miles away and happy in his own life. He'd be spending hours a day tending to his violin and practicing until the music played itself. He'd be waking up in a new city every day and experiencing so many wonderful things.

And Tessa couldn't be more jealous.

She felt guilty for envying his joy, but she couldn't shake the bitter feeling that overcame her whenever she thought about his reasons for leaving. She couldn't make him as happy as a block of wood with strings. That's what it came down to.

She couldn't condemn him for following his dreams, but she didn't have to like the fact that he'd shattered her own. Would it have been so hard for them to stay together? Their relationship wasn't exactly physical in the first place, so if anyone could have survived the distance, surely it was the two of them?

Just a phone call every once in a while, would that have been too much to ask? He could carry on with his career and she could have concentrated on her degree, but it was simply that foundation she needed. The knowledge that she was not alone.

That she was not insignificant.

That, in part, was why she still held onto his necklace. It was a small reminder that even though he wasn't with her anymore, she had once been important to him.

Tessa wondered what he'd think of the events of late and how she had behaved. Would he agree with her? Or would he chastise her for being so reckless?

Probably neither, she thought. He'd likely tell her that she should do whatever she felt was right and would support her no matter what her decision. Jem didn't judge her. He only ever cared for her.

_Clearly not_, a voice in her head argued. _If he cared, he wouldn't have left you on your own. He would have found a way to keep you in his life, as well as Jade. If he truly cared._

Tessa didn't bother responding. She simply marked it down as another sign that she was slowly being driven insane.

To make matters worse, it now seemed that she was hallucinating too. She'd been thinking of her mystery neighbours so much lately that she could now see them, walking down the pavement towards the store. Will Herondale and Jonathan Whatever-His-Name-Was.

She turned her attention back to the till instead and shook her head, attempting to dispel the image.

"Get a grip, Tessa," she told herself, concentrating on the pendant once again to centre her mind. But when she looked up again, they were still there.

And this time, they were right outside.

Will was in the lead, his hand pushing open the door, while Jonathan was just behind. The two of them wore non-assuming plain t-shirts – to her relief – and looked real enough.

Tessa suddenly found herself questioning which she preferred – to have conjured them up out of thin air or for them to actually be here, in the flesh?

As Will looked over and gave her a breath-taking smile, she knew she couldn't have made him up. Her imagination wasn't that good.

"Tess!" He walked over and slumped against the counter. Jonathan simply nodded in greeting and then made his way to the other side of the store, apparently having spotted Clary. "Fancy seeing you here."

"Indeed," she said, her voice devoid of emotion. "The chances of you finding me at my primary place of work are next to none."

"In all fairness, you haven't been here recently."

As she was reminded of that, Tessa sneaked a glance to her right where Luke was just appearing out of the storage room. He froze when he noticed the two of them together, fear evident in his eyes.

"It's alright, Luke," Tessa rolled her eyes. "I'll behave. Will and I have made our peace."

"Among other things," Will winked at him, earning a confused look from Luke and a deathly glare from Tessa, but she managed to keep her calm. He eventually made a point to ignore them and went on about his business, though she was sure he'd be keeping a close eye.

"So, what brings you here?" Tessa ached for something to do to keep her from having to look directly at him, so she opened up some inane files on the computer and pretended to sift through them.

"I need a book," he said.

"No shit."

"What? You asked." He shrugged. "Though I must say, I'm rather enjoying your filthy mouth of late, Miss Gray."

She glanced up to see him grinning even wider than before, his blue eyes sparkling.

"Good," she replied. "That's as close as you're going to get to it."

She had no idea what had made her say something so suggestive, but it seemed to have done its job. Will was speechless, his jaw to the floor.

To his credit, he recovered himself fairly quickly.

"Come now, Tess, let's not be rash."

"I thought I told you not to call me that."

"I'm not good at doing what I'm told," he said, his smile disappearing, but mischief burned behind his expression. Tessa forgot where she was going with this for a moment, her hand pausing on the computer mouse.

"I can see that," she finally mumbled. She'd told him to stay away from her so many times, and yet here he was. And here _she_ was humouring him. "What book do you need?"

"Wow, it's all business with you, isn't it?"

"I am at work, yes."

"Alright, I'll play. I need another recommendation, not that you've exactly been very forthcoming in the past…" He wore the ghost of a smile and Tessa briefly reflected on the day they'd first met. She'd thrown him out long before she had the chance to take his request seriously and she'd also prevented Sophie from helping him the day after. "You see, there's this character called Tamara and she's in her last year of university. Very direct. Easily riled up. She loves to read, but as you know, I'm not sure I know the mind of a hot-headed, passionate young woman as well as I thought I did, so I was hoping that you, a…" He picked his words carefully. "…polite, refined young woman might be able to tell me what books Tamara would enjoy."

Tessa just scowled at him.

"Tamara's me, isn't she?"

"What?" He straightened up, looking amused. "No. Not everything I do is about you Tessa. Most things, but not everything."

She didn't like that last cryptic comment but decided she'd do her best to give him a decent answer this time.

"Fine, but I need to know more. What is she studying?"

"English Literature."

"Oh my-"

"A lot of people study English Lit," he protested.

"Okay," she took a deep breath. "What are her hobbies?"

"She doesn't have that many. She's pretty boring, actually."

"What!?" Tessa gasped. "That's not true!"

"Relax," he insisted, though he was smiling now. "She's not you, remember? I'd never ever insinuate you were dull and hostile."

Tessa was about to respond in kind, but Luke came back over to make sure Will was still breathing.

"Everything okay, here? I thought I heard shouting."

"Absolutely fine," Will said, flashing him a toothy grin. "We were just debating the merits of a Kindle. Tessa obviously staunchly supports the selling of tangible books, but I was just playing Devil's Advocate."

"Right, I see." Luke didn't seem convinced. "So did you just come in here to argue with my employee or…"

"He wanted another book recommendation," Tessa interjected, thinking it was better for her to do the talking rather than give Will a chance to say something _she'd_ regret. As Luke then began to discuss the details of what exactly Will wanted, his arrival alerted Tessa to the other situation in the shop. Though she could barely see them through all of the shelves, the unmistakable red of Clary's hair shone through next to Jonathan's blonde and she thought she could hear some sort of argument.

That then reminded her of the conundrum she'd been puzzling over – how Will fit into the brother situation. If she could figure it out, Tessa felt like she might finally be able to forget about her neighbours altogether and shut Will out for good. She'd only put up with him that day because she'd assumed he was related to Clary, but if there was no connection at all, then either she'd misinterpreted the whole thing, or Clary's 'brother' was committing some sort of identity fraud.

But when she turned back to Will to ask him, she realised Luke didn't seem in any rush to leave. Apparently he was no longer taking chances with her customer service and would be overseeing the rest of the transaction.

Tessa made a split-second decision.

"Wait!" She said, loud enough for the two of them to put their conversation on hold. "I might have an idea for a book you could use, but it's pretty old. I think it's in one of the bigger boxes in the storage room. Could you give me a hand, Will?"

Will was even more shocked than Luke.

"Which one is it?" Luke asked, suspicion lacing his tone. "I could go and get it."

"Oh no," Tessa shook her head. "I wouldn't want to put you out in case it's not there. Besides I could do with a stretch." She hopped off the stool. "You remember how to use the till, right?"

"Obviously," Luke said. "But I don't usually allow customers in the storage room."

"Please," Tessa laughed. "Will's here so much he's practically one of the shelves."

"Yeah," Will chuckled lightly, though the look he gave Tessa was still disbelieving. "The shelves. That's the first thing that would come to my mind too."

"Well, alright then." Luke seemed reluctant but he appeared to give her the benefit of the doubt. She'd had such a good track record in the past that she hoped he believed she was simply trying to redeem herself.

"Great," Tessa smiled angelically, then gestured for Will to follow her as she made her way to the back of the store and pushed her way through to the storage room. She waited until the door had closed behind Will before she turned to face him.

"Are we really looking for a book?" Will asked, keeping his voice low.

"No," she said. He seemed to like that a lot.

"Oh, Miss Gray," he smirked. "What _are _you up to? I mean, I'd like to believe you've brought me here for a different kind of lifting but unfortunately, I've been cursed with brains as well as divine looks and I know the probability of that is highly unlikely. Not impossible, but unlikely."

"You'd be right in assuming that," she said, still managing to stay composed. She'd been expecting him to make suggestive comments so they didn't catch her off guard. "I need you to tell me something. About your brother."

"My brother?" He definitely wasn't prepared for that. "You are full of surprises today, Tessa, I've got to tell you."

"The guy who came in with you, that's your brother? The one who bought you those god-awful t-shirts for Christmas?"

"So you _were_ listening," he grinned. "Yes and yes. That's him."

"And his name is Jonathan?"

"Yep," he nodded. "Jonathan Stephen Herondale. First of his name. But we call him Jace because J.S., Jace, pretty much the same thing."

_Jace._ Why did that name ring a bell?

"And you have a sister?"

"Yes," Will was more wary this time. "I have a sister. And another."

"Two sisters?" Clary's potential family just kept on growing, though Will had confirmed Jonathan's surname was Herondale, so he might not have been related to her either.

"Yeah, one older one and one younger pain in the arse."

_Okay, maybe Clary._

"And what's her name? The younger one?"

"How about you answer a question first?" Will seemed about done with the interrogation. "What's the sudden interest in my family?"

Tessa groped for an explanation as he looked on expectantly.

Finally, she settled with something completely out of character for her, but she knew it would shut him up.

"I've got to know about the in-laws, don't I?" She said, trying to keep a straight face. "Just in case."

Will studied her for a few more moments, then seemed to let it slide.

"Cecily," he said. "Her name is Cecily. And since you're probably about to ask, the older one is Ella."

Tessa actually wasn't about to ask that, but she nodded along anyway. He'd told her all she needed to know. Jonathan - or Jace, as they called him – was his brother, but Clary wasn't related to either of them. So why had she told Tessa that her brother had moved in downstairs?

Snippets of their conversation on the phone came back to her and Tessa remembered why Jace's name was so familiar.

"Just ask for Jonathan," Clary had said. "Actually, that bit is the most important. Ask for Jonathan. Not Jace. _Jonathan._"

Tessa had asked for Jonathan, but Jace had assumed she was asking for him since his full name was Jonathan too, so he hadn't contradicted her. But there was clearly a difference.

Jace and Jonathan were two different people.

Jace Herondale was Will's brother, whereas the other Jonathan must have been the Morgenstern boy that Luke had spoken about.

She'd gotten the wrong one!

"And your brother…" Tessa thought she'd figured it out, but she had to make sure. "He's not the only Jonathan living in the flat, right? There's also Jonathan Morgenstern?"

"Yeah," Will was once again surprised. "His best friend. How did you know that?"

"I ran into him at one point," she shrugged, hoping he wouldn't follow it up. She also remembered Clary's insistence not to tell anyone that he was her brother, so Tessa said no more. "Right, well, thank you for that, Will. You've been very enlightening."

"Do I get a special prize?" He asked, back to his flirty self. "You know, for getting all the right answers."

"Sure," Tessa grinned back, then she reached behind herself and gave him the first book her hands fell on. "There's your recommendation."

Will squinted down at the cover cautiously and furrowed his eyebrows.

"Anne Of Green Gables? Really?"

Tessa realised she hadn't actually looked at the book she'd handed him, but went along with it.

"Yeah, you said yourself that 'Tamara' was boring."

"So I did," Will shook his head at her, smiling. "I may have prematurely judged her though."

"Hey, she's your character. Do what you like with her." Tessa realised her mistake as he raised his eyebrows at her and she knew she'd been right in thinking Tamara was based on her all along. "_Tamara,_" she reiterated, flushing slightly. "Do what you like with Tamara."

"I think I will," he said, his eyes still on Tessa. She pushed past him before the situation could become any more awkward.

"Come on, before Luke thinks I've buried your body in here."

Will followed her out and she noticed that Luke had been watching the doorway. His shoulders visibly relaxed as he noticed the two of them and his eyes fell on the book Will was holding.

"Anne Of Green Gables? An inspired choice, Tessa."

"Thank you," she said as Will passed Luke the book and handed him the cash.

"My first official purchase," Will said. "I feel like this is a monumental occasion."

"Certainly," Luke agreed, staring pointedly at Tessa. "One I was afraid would never occur."

She looked away in embarrassment and noticed that Jace was already waiting outside for Will. Clary was sat in the corner, almost completely hidden by a mountain of reddish books and she didn't look happy. It occurred to her then that it was weird Jace had gone straight up to Clary as he'd walked in – she'd passed it off as sibling stuff earlier – but she decided she'd puzzle that out another time.

For now, her attention was being forcibly drawn out by Will as he prepared to leave the store.

"Good luck with your novel," Luke told him. "I hope the book helps you out with developing your character."

"Thanks, it definitely will," Will chuckled, glancing surreptitiously at Tessa.

"Oh, you didn't say before, what kind of novel is it anyway?"

Will held her gaze purposely this time, his hand braced on the door.

"Erotic," he said.

Then he was gone.

* * *

**Oho. Ohohoho.**

**So many feelings.**

**What did you all make of it? And you'll find out what happened on Clary's end in the next chapter, which also happens to be the day of Magnus's party!**

**Also, on a side note, how many of you have heard Tokio Hotel's new song?! A lot of people used to make fun of me for listening to them, but those guys shaped my early teenagehood and my love for them continues to know no bounds. Safe to say that hearing new music from them after FIVE YEARS was pretty insane. Yes, I did cry. I know most of their fans are probably a bit older now since we've been kicking around for a while - I'm definitely one of the youngest - but if anyone has gotten into them recently let me know! Their new stuff definitely sounds very different, but I still feel like a proud mother. **

**Yeah so anyway, let me know what you thought of the chapter and thanks for reading! :D**

**Till the next time...**

**smim xx**


	7. Confrontations

**Hi guys! So, this is the first part of Magnus's birthday and the whole affair is actually going to be split into three because so much happens. Make of that what you will.**

**I hope you enjoy it :) Also, I've added a link on my profile to the update tag for this fic. So like I did with BotB, if there's ever a problem with updates or questions that people want answered, they'll be under the 'atotfic' tag on tumblr.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own TMI, TID or any of their characters, but I do rather enjoy pistachios.**

* * *

_**A Tale Of Two…**_

**7. Confrontations**

_29__th__ January_

If you were asked which of the resident Flat Four girls would be most up for a house party, you'd probably – definitely - say Clary. And normally, you'd be right.

The redhead revelled in being able to flaunt herself in all festive occasions, especially when her dearest friends were involved. Magnus Bane's 25th birthday extravaganza would certainly count as such an occasion and where usually she'd have bought a gift two months in advance, planned an outfit two weeks in advance and arrived two hours in advance to help him set up, she was still walking around in her pyjamas.

Two minutes _after_ it was meant to have started.

She knew she'd been acting strangely lately, but if nothing had tipped Tessa off as to her sullen mood before, the sight of her sprawled out across the sofa covered in pistachio nuts ought to have done the trick.

The older girl gasped as she walked into the living room. She was the only one of the two who looked like she hadn't just crawled out of a skip, clad in a willowy light-grey dress with a cerulean satin sash. If you squinted at where the two colours overlapped, you'd have the exact colour of Tessa's stormy eyes.

"Clary? What are you still doing here? I assumed you were gone ages ago."

"You look nice," Clary said instead, trying to catapult a pistachio into her mouth with the edge of her shirt.

"Clary," Tessa said again, moving to block her view of the television. "Seriously, what is this?"

Clary groaned and stretched her neck to peer around Tessa.

"She's only got three boxes left! Two of them are under a thousand but the quarter of a million is still out there. If the banker offers more than ten grand I think she should take it. I'd take it."

The brunette gaped at her in confusion, before turning to look behind herself. "Deal Or No Deal? You're missing Magnus's birthday for a game show?!"

"Hey," Clary protested. "There're some life-changing amounts in there. It's not just a game for Edith. She's been waiting for that loft conversion for so long."

"Alright, what has gotten into you?" When it looked like Clary still wasn't going to answer, Tessa grabbed the remote and switched the TV off. "I'm genuinely worried for you, Clarissa. You keep jumping from one extreme to the other. First it was the excessive cleaning, and now for the last couple of days you've been excessively _unclean_. Oh, and those pistachio nuts have been lying at the back of the cupboard since before Sophie and I even moved in."

"What?" Clary reached over for her empty Tizer can and spit out the one she'd just been chewing on. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't think you're in any position to be questioning me here." Tessa watched her cautiously for a few moments, then sighed and knelt down. "Clary, please, what's going on?"

"It doesn't matter," she shook her head, looking up at the ceiling.

She couldn't tell her what was wrong when it had everything to do with her.

"As long as you're living under this roof, it matters to me. This isn't like you, Clary. There's been something off ever since the evening you came back from Eric's poetry recital. What happened there?"

"It's not important," Clary insisted, though she could feel her defences crumbling. She'd been dying to offload to someone and since Isabelle was out of the question – she'd already proved how inept she was at keeping secrets – Clary knew that Tessa was the only other option. Unfortunately, that only complicated things further. "I'm just being stupid, that's all. Now you should probably go downstairs. It'd be a waste for no one to see you all dressed up."

"Well, that's tough because I'm not going anywhere. If you're not going to the party then neither am I."

"Tessa, I…I can't."

"Why not?" Tessa moved to sit on the edge of the sofa so Clary couldn't avoid her gaze. Pistachios crunched underneath her but she ignored them.

_Because he'll be there,_ she thought, but didn't say anything. However, it was becoming harder and harder to resist that earnest look on her friend's face. She knew Tessa was concerned and how stubborn she could be about it. After all, Clary had been just as worried about her after the break up with Jem and then the recent suspension from Luke's bookstore. Tessa was only doing what Clary had attempted to do.

She was just trying to help.

"Have you met our new neighbours?" She asked quietly. They'd get down to the truth eventually, but it was best to start indirectly.

"Errm…" Tessa fumbled with her sash, suddenly nervous. "Yes."

"Both of them?" Clary knew Tessa had asked Jonathan for help when their boiler broke down, but she'd never gotten around to questioning Jace as to how he knew her as well.

"Both?" She raised her eyebrows. "Surely you mean all three?"

"There's three of them?" Clary hadn't known that. She'd just assumed it was Jace and her brother.

"Well, yes…" Tessa was hesitant. "There's your brother and then the Herondale boys."

"There's more than one Herondale?" This was definitely news. It was hard to believe anyone else like Jace could exist. The way he acted would've suggested he was an only child. Showered with attention since the day he was born.

Tessa took even longer to answer this time, her expression cautious.

"Yes. Will and Jace. I thought you knew since they came into the bookstore the other day?"

The other day at the bookstore.

That was a memory Clary had tried to suppress but it had played on her mind nonetheless. She'd keep it hidden for now.

"I know Jace was there," she said. "Which one was his brother?"

"The black-haired boy. Didn't you see him?"

"I didn't see either of them at first. Wait, was he the one who came out of the storage room with you at the end?" Clary remembered that part. She didn't think Luke had taken on any other employees but then she saw him paying for a book and realised he was just another customer. She also noticed he was rather gorgeous. There must have been something in the water in Wales.

Tessa nodded, pursing her lips.

"What were you doing in there anyway?"

"Nothing," she shook her head quickly. "He was just helping me find a book."

"So that was Jace's brother?"

"Yeah, his older brother."

"He's never mentioned having any siblings…"

"He has three. Will and Ella are older and Cecily's the youngest."

"You seem to know an awful lot about their family," Clary pointed out, turning her scrutiny onto the other girl. "Did Jace tell you all of this?"

"No, Will did."

"While you were in the storage room?"

"What is this, 'Who Wants To Be A Millionaire?'" Tessa shuffled backwards. "I know you're all into game shows now but I'm fairly happy with my financial situation, thanks."

"Relax," Clary sat up, holding her hands out. "I was just wondering."

"We weren't even in there that long," Tessa huffed.

"Okay, it's no big deal."

"We've had various brief meetings in which he's disclosed information. Most of it without prompting, I might add."

"Alright, Tessa. No need to get so defensive." She hadn't seen her this flustered in so long. What was it about this conversation that was getting her so worked up? "Wait a second, is Will the boy from the bookstore?"

"Well, obviously, I thought we'd just established that."

"No, I mean is he _the_ boy from the bookstore? The one who got you suspended? Is that why you're so anxious?" Clary cursed her lack of attentiveness. She was sure Tessa had mentioned that was the name of the boy who'd been irritating her and if she now thought about it, Jace had also worn a literary innuendo t-shirt the day of Eric's poetry recital. Surely not a huge amount of them could have been in production?

"Yes!" Tessa nodded, eyes wide. "That's exactly why I'm anxious." She wiped at her forehead. "He's the one."

"So how do you know Jace?"

"Oh, I don't really. I just ran into him on the staircase one time. It was mercifully brief."

Clary sighed with the sort of relief she didn't think she'd ever feel again. So he wasn't having some sort of secret affair with her flatmate after all. He'd merely seen her in passing and thought he'd try his luck, probably because he knew how much it would irk Clary. That was far easier to accept than that he'd liked her better as a person. Not that there was anything wrong with Tessa. They were best friends for a reason. But when it came to Jace, Clary thought they had something more.

Or at least, she did.

Until the other day at the bookstore.

"But enough about me, this is about you. You still haven't told me what's been bothering you."

Clary took a deep breath. There was no avoiding it now.

"Jace."

She'd been so intent on being organised at their last shift because she knew it was one of the attributes that Tessa had and she lacked. She wanted to prove to both Tessa and Luke that she could be just as useful. Unfortunately, when the annoying blonde had appeared at her elbow seemingly out of thin air, she didn't realise how it would backfire.

Clary had been at the back of the bookstore at the time, behind too many shelves to see Tessa at the counter but she could hear the bell ring to signal that someone had entered the shop. She had ignored it at first, but when Jace materialised next to her, it was impossible to continue to do so.

She'd jumped half out of her skin to find him leaning against the bookshelf, intent as she was on ordering the Chronicles Of Narnia into their various publication sections. All of the books dropped out of her hands and she'd managed to knock over a good portion of the others on the shelf at the same time.

"You idiot!" She'd yelled at him. "You can't just do that to people!"

"What?" He'd smirked at her, his face serene. "Exist?"

"No, surprise them." She knelt down and began scooping them up. Jace also got down on his knees and started to help her.

"Okay. You don't like surprises. Noted." He handed a couple of books over to her and she snatched them as quickly as she could, avoiding all direct contact. "Was it a good one, at least?"

"No," she grumbled. "It was an awful one. Now I'm going to have to start all over."

"Aw, Fray," he placed his hand over his heart. "Are you not happy to see me?"

Considering the last time he'd completely humiliated her and her favourite lecturer too, no. No, she was not happy to see him at all.

Instead of giving him a response she scrambled off the floor and started placing the books back into her convoluted ordering system. Author by alphabet, series by alphabet, series starting with the same letter by colour, series starting with the same letter and having the same colour by texture of spine and so on…

"I don't understand," he said after studying her for a minute or so.

"What don't you understand?" She asked, trying to keep the venom out of her tone. Probably a lot, by the looks of it.

"It's already in alphabetical order. Why are you moving them around even more?"

"That's not something I'd expect you to understand."

"And why do you keep feeling them up? Do you have some sort of book fetish?" He seemed to perk up at that. "Not that I'm judging."

"I'm checking the texture of the spine!" She snapped at him, flushing red despite herself.

They stared at each other for a long moment, his expression unreadable.

Then he burst into laughter.

"Wow, Fray. You really are crazy, aren't you?"

Clary growled. Of all the things he could have called her, that was the word she despised the most. Since Raphael had run out of her flat yelling 'Crazy Fray' repeatedly, she'd taken the insult very personally. It had taken her a long time for Tessa to convince her that he was the stupid one, but for Jace to say it…

Was there really something wrong with her?

"I can't say I'm shocked though," he continued, once again oblivious to the violent emotions swirling inside her. "I mean, there was that whole right-angle OCD you had in the lecture yesterday. I thought you were bluffing at the end there, but you were right. I wouldn't know, would I? Not that being organised is a bad thing." He backed away when she glared at him. "I prefer being a little rough around the edges myself, but I'm sure you'll make a great palaeontologist or something. Lots of cataloguing and ordering and _texture-feeling._"

Clary was dangerously close to smacking him over the head with Prince Caspian when Luke appeared around the corner.

"Everything alright here?" He asked, carrying a box of books.

"Fine," Clary smiled tightly, daring Jace to say otherwise.

"Brilliant," he said. "Miss Fray here is being extremely helpful."

"Oh, well, that's good!" Clary didn't like how much that staggered Luke, as if she wasn't usually helpful, but let it go. "I'll just be in the next aisle over if you need me."

He left them alone then but Clary was well aware that he'd be able to hear everything they said from such close proximity.

"So," she tried to sound as friendly as possible. "What was it you wanted again, Sir?"

Jace arched his eyebrow at that, but since her expression was still very much hostile, there was no mistaking the motivation behind her sudden change in tone. He knew she was only doing this to appease Luke.

A slow, devilish grin began to creep across his face.

"It's something quite specific I'm looking for, you see. I can't quite remember the name of the book. I just recall the cover being red, somewhere between Fuschia and Wine in shade."

"That's basically the entire spectrum," she said between gritted teeth.

"My memory doesn't serve me too well," he smiled sadly at her. "Perhaps it's best for you to just show me all of the books you have that are remotely red. That shouldn't be too hard considering you have such an incredible system set up."

"Are you serious?" Clary whispered, shoving him in the chest.

"Deadly," he whispered back, biting his lip.

"Well you can go fu-"

"What?!" She winced as his voice rose in volume. "You won't help me? I must say, I'm so disappointed. I'll just have to go and find another bookstore where the assistants are mo…"

"Of course I'll help you!" She shrieked, noticing that Luke had begun to stir. "I just didn't fully understand what you were asking."

"That's okay," he patted her on the head. "You are fairly small so I completely understand if your brain size is proportionate."

"Keep pushing me Herondale and I'll show you just how painful my proportionately-sized heels can be," she spat, indicating towards her razor sharp stilettos. They were only a couple of inches high because she had to conform to work attire but they could do enough damage.

Jace jumped out of reach instinctively as she smiled sweetly at him.

"You want red books, Sir? Here you go." Then she grabbed as many books as she could find and piled them unceremoniously into his unsuspecting arms. "Want more?"

"Actually…"

"Here." She threw even more at him from the other side of the shelf. Clary knew she'd just have to sort them out all over again but she was past caring. He'd made fun of her for being so organised so she'd show him the exact opposite. "Here." Another dozen or so. "And here. Have a browse through them yourself."

"I probably should have mentioned," Jace added, a glint of something else in his eye. He'd clearly had enough of her little game. "There was a specific texture I was looking for so you'll have to take most of these back." Then he leant down and dumped the entire pile on the floor. "It's that sort of hardback that's smooth like greaseproof paper but it has just enough friction too. Perhaps you could find it for me. I don't really have the touch for this sort of thing."

Luckily, Clary heard Luke's voice from the counter end of the store at that point so she didn't have to play along anymore. Jace must have realised it too because probably for the first time in his life, he actually looked nervous.

"Why are you doing this, Jace?" She moaned, throwing her hands up. "Why are you so intent on ruining my life? Everywhere I go, you're always there to mess things up!"

"I'm not trying to mess things up," he argued back. If she didn't know him better, she might have thought she'd actually offended him. As it was, Jace obviously had a heart of stone. "I'm just trying to get to know you, Clary. Is that such a crime?"

"Yeah, actually! When all you succeed in doing is irritating me beyond belief and making my day ten times worse, then yeah. It's a crime."

"Oh come on, Clary. Stop pretending. I think we both know what you really think." His arrogant smile was back.

"Please," she scoffed. "Firstly, I don't go for blondes…" That was a lie, but in all fairness, none of her previous boyfriends had been blonde. And by boyfriends she meant boyfriend. And by that she meant Raphael. Who was definitely not blonde. "And secondly, even if I did find you aesthetically pleasing, I know you too well to ever delude myself into thinking you'd be a decent boyfriend. It's hard being around you for even one mandatory hour a week let alone more than that."

That wiped the smile right off his face.

"I thought we were friends."

"Well, then you can't know much about being friends with someone. Friends don't make the other feel like crap."

"Is that really how I make you feel?" He'd stepped closer to her, his golden eyes blazing. Clary knew she was exaggerating. Yes, Jace annoyed her, but not all of the time they spent together was awful. If it were, she'd never have ended up liking him.

But she also knew that she couldn't keep putting up with it. A relationship like that, whether platonic or otherwise, was simply destructive. He couldn't keep making her second-guess herself or feel worthless. She shouldn't have had to try to be anything other than herself to impress him.

If he didn't take her as she was, that was the end of it. They'd have to have a clean break. No flirting. No smiling. No talking.

She'd have to stay away from him for good.

But before she had the chance to answer him, he turned around and walked out, leaving her alone with her sad little pile of books.

And that's why she couldn't go to Magnus' party today. If there was even the slightest chance that he might be there, it was a chance too many. She'd already emailed Professor Fade and asked him if she could switch to his other class, so if she were ever to run into Jace, it'd have to be by coincidence. She'd never be responsible for it again.

Clary sighed, answering Tessa's question again. "Jace is what's wrong. I don't want to see him."

She'd been harsh during their argument, she knew that, but the vast majority of what she'd said was the truth. That was what upset her the most. She had no misconceptions about the type of guy Jace was. The way he'd behaved and talked about Helen was proof enough that he thought he was untouchable and could have whomever he deigned worthy enough of a smile.

There was good in him, she'd seen some of that, but there was just as much of the bad. Until he could fix that part of himself, there was nothing more she could do for him.

She was preparing herself to tell Tessa the entire story. Not just what she'd just relived in her mind, but also what had come before that. As it happened, Tessa had jumped to conclusions of her own.

"You don't have to say another word," Tessa said, drawing her into a hug. "If Jace is anything like his brother, I know exactly how you feel. Those Herondale boys have a knack for rubbing people up the wrong way."

That was an understatement, but Clary was relieved. She knew that to properly explain her reaction towards him, she'd have to tell Tessa the full extent of her feelings. She was sure she'd understand. Tessa always did. But she still didn't want her to know about how close she'd been to breaking the pact. Especially now that she was as determined to stick to it as ever.

Though she'd been rash in laying out the terms over two weeks ago, her sentiments hadn't been misplaced. She wasn't ready to have her heart broken again. Not yet. Men complicated everything, whether they intended to or not.

She had a feeling that Jace had very much planned to intertwine himself in her life, but for now, the only man she had any allegiance whatsoever towards was Simon. And her dad. And probably her brother if he was in desperate trouble. And maybe Malcolm Fade.

Okay, there were plenty of men.

Just not Jace.

"But you know what?" Tessa pulled back from her. "We can't let them have that satisfaction. I hid away from Will but in the end, it did me no good at all. The only way to have power over them is to take it for yourself. Don't let Jace turn you into some daytime-TV-watching recluse. You're better than that, Clary. So here's what you're going to do: you're going to throw away that packet of pistachios, march yourself to the shower, scrub all that Herondale madness off of you. Then you're going to wear the most jaw-dropping dress you own, become the unstoppable force of nature I know and love and then we'll go and put everyone else at Magnus' party to shame. Besides Magnus himself, of course. No one can outdo him when he's in full glamour-mode. Especially not on his birthday."

"Ugh," she buried her face in her hands. "I didn't even wrap his present."

"I'll take care of it."

"And I completely forgot to buy him a card!"

"I'll improvise."

"Tessa, I really don't…"

"Nope. I'm not hearing it anymore. You're just making excuses now. You had a go at me for locking myself in the flat when I was off work and the drama ended up finding me anyway. So either you wait for the same to happen to you, or go and make it happen on your own terms. Besides, I doubt those guys have been invited anyway. They haven't been around for that long and Magnus used to avoid the Dark Sisters as much as possible while they were still living here, so there's a chance he doesn't even know they're there."

Clary hesitated, looking at the state surrounding her. Though she hated to admit it, Tessa was right. She'd let Jace dictate her life after all. She couldn't see him and be happy, but she couldn't avoid him and be happy either. The best thing to do was to eliminate him from the equation altogether.

She shouldn't have to factor him into any of her decisions anymore.

"Alright," she finally said, pushing herself off the sofa. She shook remainders of pistachio nuts out of her hair and off her clothes and straightened up. Tessa stood up too, grinning triumphantly. "Let's get this party started."

* * *

**Let us indeed.**

**So the next chapter will see the first half of the party itself (as well as the return of JONATHAN YEAH BABY) and the second half will be the entirety of chapter 9 - so yes, lots to come. **

**Thanks for reading and as always, I'd love to hear your thoughts/predictions. Also, has anyone else seen The Riot Club already? I saw it this morning and just...wow. I already had my reservations about Oxford and I know they can actually get up to a lot worse, so it wasn't shocking on that front, but the acting was incredible. And obviously, the beautiful faces of Max Irons, Sam Claflin and Douglas Booth on one screen didn't do any harm ;)**

**Till the next time...**

**smim xx **


	8. Deceptions

**Hi guys :) Here's the second part of Magnus's birthday party and I hope you enjoy it!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own TMI, TID or any of their characters, but I definitely had fun making up some of those terms of endearment.**

* * *

_**A Tale Of Two…**_

**8. Deceptions**

_29__th__ January [Part Two]_

Tessa had been right.

Once Clary was clean and spruced up, donning a sparkly golden dress, she waltzed into Magnus and Alec's apartment and found that Jace was indeed not there. All that time she'd spent fretting was for nothing at all. Of course, that didn't mean she could avoid Isabelle's wrath.

"What time do you call this?" Isabelle spotted Clary from across the room almost immediately, making her way through dangling beads and balloons to confront the redhead. She was draped in a one-shouldered black number. Tessa abandoned her immediately like the traitor she was, going over to find Magnus so she could present him with their gift.

"Party time?" Clary hedged, flashing her an uneasy smile.

"Clary, it's almost _eleven._ We were expecting you four hours ago."

"I didn't say for definite I'd be around to help set up…"

"And what were you around doing instead?"

Clary had no witty comebacks for that. It was bad enough that Tessa had seen her in that state earlier, but she couldn't let Isabelle know quite how low she'd been. Deal Or No Deal was the absolute lowest it got for her.

"Leave her alone, Isabelle." It was Alec who came to her rescue instead. Magnus had clearly had a hand in his wardrobe since he was clad in a well-fitting black suit with an embroidered waistcoat the exact colour of his eyes. Possibly a bit overly formal for the occasion, but he looked dashing nonetheless. He grinned at Clary. "It's probably a good thing you got out of it, to be honest. I felt like a prisoner of war with all the commands Magnus was barking out. I don't think I ever want to touch a pot of glitter again."

"That's unfortunate," Magnus appeared at his side, resplendent in his tuxedo, which was drowning in probably about a _dozen_ pots of glitter. "Because I'm sure plenty of pots of glitter want to touch you."

"Well, I'll have to turn them all down then," he smiled wryly. "I'm more of a flesh and blood sort of man."

"You drive a hard bargain, Alexander. Among other things."

"Stop!" Isabelle slapped her hand over Magnus's mouth. "Do not continue until I am well out of range and have purged my ears with bleach."

The two of them burst out laughing as Isabelle ran away, hurtling into a startled Simon, though Alec's face reddened considerably.

"Happy birthday, Magnus!" Clary decided to change the subject, throwing her arms around him. "I'm sorry I'm late."

"That's okay, biscuit. I understand how busy you youths of today are. No one spares a thought for a withering old man like myself anymore."

"Magnus, you're only 25."

"Hush!" He placed a finger over her lips. "My hairline might hear you."

"But you're not receding…"

"Shhhh!" His entire hands now came to rest upon her mouth, blocking the majority of her face. "Off with you now. Go and mingle while you're young." He shoved her towards a group of people she didn't recognise in the corner. "Make the sorts of friends to last you a lifetime, since you have all of it ahead of you."

"_Magnus."_

"Don't worry, Clary," Alec shook his head. "I'll keep this under control."

"Good luck," she mumbled, before backing away. Instead of heading towards the group Magnus had intended her to meet, she managed to divert herself and followed Simon to the kitchen. Isabelle had been fiddling with the stereo in the main room and Tessa was nowhere to be seen at all.

"Lewis," she nodded, pouring herself a glass of wine. She intended to be responsible tonight to make up for her shoddy behaviour lately, but it was still a party.

"Fray," he smirked, sipping at his own cup. "I haven't seen you in a while."

"I've been…busy. Lots of coursework and stuff."

"Your fault for picking art," he shrugged, not bothering to question her. "Should have gone with physics like me."

"Yes, because I'm so amazing at physics."

"You just never gave it a chance, that's all."

"Simon, I poured water all over a toaster and shorted the entire building."

"You did what?" He winced. "You should probably stay away from me then. That kind of idiocy could be contagious."

She poked her tongue out at him in response.

"Seriously though, how have you been?" He asked her and she knew he could see things weren't completely normal. Simon was her oldest friend and even now, he was always able to notice things about her that no one else could. "You haven't been returning any of my texts."

"Your jokes, you mean. I didn't realise they required a response."

"I simple 'haha' or 'wow, Simon you're a god of humour' would suffice."

"Sorry, I'll remember that for next time Your Holiness."

"You do that. Now tell me what's wrong," he moved her glass out of the way so she couldn't distract herself with that instead. "And if you lie to me, I'll know."

"It's fine, Simon. Honestly." She rubbed circles into her forehead. "I feel much better now and I'd rather just try to enjoy this evening. It really is just art class."

That wasn't a complete lie. Malcolm Fade's classes were her primary source of Jace.

"Alright." He didn't push for any more, sliding her wine back over to her. "But if you need to talk, I expect you to come to me."

"I will. Thank you, friend."

Simon led Clary back through to the living room where the Backstreet Boys were now blaring courtesy of Isabelle and that seemed to have kicked some life into the rest of the party. There were so many people packed into the room that she had a hard time finding anyone she might have recognised, particularly since she was at chest-level with the majority of people. Since Magnus and Alec only had the one bedroom, their living room was much larger than the girls'. She finally spotted Tessa, standing by the window with a black-haired boy.

A black-haired boy that looked shockingly familiar.

Clary froze, her hand on Simon's arm and began to look about frantically.

It was Will Herondale. Brother of her most recent arch nemesis Jace Herondale – as she'd come to learn earlier that evening. Tessa was so sure their flat wouldn't even have been invited, but if Will was here…

Someone knocked into Clary from behind, her drink almost spilling all over her dress. She spun and braced herself as she saw a flash of blonde hair, then sighed with relief when she realised it was just Jonathan. That meant Jace was probably around here too, but for now, she could use this to her advantage. If she was with Jonathan, her brother would never let Jace get close to her, purely because he was so scared of his friends finding out they were siblings.

"Clary?" He frowned at her, glancing about him nervously. "What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here? What are _you_ doing here?"

"Isn't it past your bedtime?" He moved to block her from the rest of the room.

"Jonathan, I'm _nineteen_."

"Yeah, so? It's almost _midnight._"

She groaned and pulled him back to the kitchen by the arm, shooting Simon an apologetic look. He was in a simple t-shirt and jeans, so he'd either been invited at the last minute or he hadn't originally been planning on coming.

"Don't manhandle me like that!" He shook her off once she shut the door behind them. "What if someone saw?"

"Relax, no one knows you're my brother." Apart from Tessa, but he didn't need to know about that. He still seemed uneasy, but finally settled down a bit. "So…how have you been?" Clary realised then that she hadn't seen him since the day they moved in. How strange to think that he was suddenly the least of her problems.

"Alright," he shrugged. "Haven't been doing all that much."

"What about your tattoo business?"

"How do you know about that?" His eyes flicked up sharply.

_Damn._ She'd slipped up. Jace had told her about their tattoo parlour, not him.

"It doesn't matter how I know," she recovered herself, letting her annoyance seep into her voice. "What matters is how on earth you think that's going to work out!? You're not qualified at all, Jon." Plus art was her dream, not his. Regardless of the outlet.

"I'm getting there," he protested. "I've been taking a course since I've been here."

"You have?" That was news.

"Yeah, do you remember Sebastian Verlac?"

"…Yes." How could she not? His disappearance was what had built up Jonathan's notoriety in the first place, thereby destroying any romantic notions she may have held.

"Well, he's back from France and he's a tattooist now."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, he's been letting me get some experience at the place he works at for the past couple of weeks. The deal is that once I raise enough money and my partner finally gets his trust fund in, he'll help us set up our own parlour and be the primary tattooist. We'll take care of the finances and clients, he'll do the manual stuff."

"Oh." That made some sort of sense. Sebastian and Jonathan hadn't been on the best of terms while the Frenchmen was living under their roof, but if he was offered a stake in his own business, that would be incentive enough to help her brother out. Plus, it was definitely more sensible than letting those buffoons stick their needles into someone. She was almost disappointed that he'd had this better thought out than she'd initially imagined. Then she finally zoned in on the other thing he mentioned. "Jace has a trust fund?"

"Not right now," Jonathan seemed upset at that. "But once he fulfils his grandmother's ridiculous terms he'll finally get access to it."

"What sorts of terms?"

"I don't know, something about getting a…wait. How do you even know who Jace is?" Jonathan raised his eyebrows, crossing his arms over his chest.

"We erm…he's in my art class."

"Did you tell him who you were?" His eyes widened, that earlier panic setting back in.

"No, of course not," she huffed. "He knows my name, but not that I'm related to you. He just mentioned the plans he had with his friend and I know he lives with you, so I put the pieces together. Really though, Jonathan-Squared?"

"It's a good name! Though, with Sebastian owning a third of it we may have to throw around some other ideas."

"How about this one: Sebastian Runs The Business And Jonathan-Squared Go Back To Uni."

"That's an awful name," he waved her off. "No way."

"Jonathan, I'm serious. It's great that you're taking some initiative and trying to make something of yourself, it really is. But I don't see why you have to give up your degree for it. You literally have just a couple of months left. You've only missed two weeks so I'm sure they'll let you back in. Besides, if you really are just the money behind the whole thing, I don't see why Sebastian can't take care of things here on his own for a bit. What are you and Jace going to do besides sitting around and looking pretty anyway?" Clary couldn't believe that she was suddenly the voice of reason. Jonathan always was less mature than she was, but she'd never really had to lecture him about his life choices before. Her mother usually took care of that. What she didn't let on was that though she did care about Jonathan's education, him going back to university would also mean that Jace would probably go back with him. Two birds with one stone and all that.

"You think Jace is pretty?"

"Jonathan, did you not listen to what I just said?" She cried, exasperated. Of course, that's the only thing he'd pick up on.

"Yes, but it's more complicated than that. I haven't just missed a couple of weeks."

"What are you talking about?"

He bit his lip, looking anywhere but at her.

"I didn't just leave university after Christmas. I left at the beginning of the year."

"Since September?" She breathed.

"Yeah, I deferred the whole year, not just the last term. Jace and I just stayed in Bristol to see if we could set up our business there, but when it didn't seem like it was working, that's when we decided to move to London."

"How much of this does Mum know?"

"As much as you thought you knew." Oh, their parents were going to kill him. "But you can't tell them!" His voice turned pleading as he grabbed her shoulders. "This is literally my only shot at making this work and if they find out, you know they'll make me go back home. I'm so close now, please, Clary."

"Jon, this is big," she shook her head. "I don't know if I can lie to them."

"You won't have to lie, just don't ever mention me. That shouldn't be too hard, right?"

She looked up at him to find those identical green eyes gazing back down at her. Jonathan had never asked her for much in the past, but it did seem like he was genuinely passionate about this. Who was she to stand in the way of that?

"Fine," she eventually sighed. "I won't say anything, but if you don't keep me in the loop this time round I'll tell them all of it."

"Thanks, Clary." He pulled her into a hug, taking her completely by surprise. This really must have meant a lot to him.

"I mean it, Jonathan," she tried to keep her voice stern but it was hard to do that as she wrapped her arms around him. They'd never been close before and she was suddenly relishing the idea that this might bring them together. Being guilty by association may actually have been worth it if she had her brother back.

A cough sounded from the doorway and Jonathan jumped back from her as if she were a live wire.

"Sorry," the voice said. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

_Oh crap._

Clary turned slowly to find Jace leaning against the wall, his expression unreadable.

"Jace!" Jonathan chuckled nervously. "I was just about to look for you."

"Were you now?" Jace didn't look at Clary, but waves of hostility rolled off him. She knew some of the things she'd said to him were tough, but Jace always gave the impression than nothing ever fazed him. She hadn't been expecting this sort of a reaction.

"Yeah, have you met our neighbour?" Jonathan pushed Clary in front of him.

"I believe I have, yes." He glanced down at her briefly and the silence was deafening. Clary was too scared to even swallow.

"Oh," Jonathan moved her to the side. "I don't need to introduce you after all, then. Let's get back out there." He guided Jace out of the door, turning back to look at Clary. "I'll speak to you soon, Clarissa."

"Yeah," she mumbled, her voice wobbling. "You do that."

Then she slumped into the nearest chair, pouring herself another glass.

-o-O-o-

"That's err…lovely," Tessa smiled politely as Alexei de Quincey, their somewhat hermit of a neighbour talked about his various assortment of plants. She'd been happily conversing with the other guests since she'd gotten here, thinking it was better to leave Clary to her own devices. Seeing her friend as she had been just a few hours ago had definitely shaken her up, but she knew Clary was resilient. She'd surely be able to overcome whatever had been getting her down.

"Of course," he continued, flashing her a bright white smile. "The Bloodflower is my favourite. Such vibrant colours. I used to prefer the Dragon's Blood plant, but there's just something about the Bloodflower that's so enticing. So…" He licked his lips. "Addictive."

"Alright, Alexei," the dazzling blonde next to him chided. She'd introduced herself as Camille Belcourt, an old friend of Magnus's. "We get the picture. Why don't you get yourself something to eat? Alec's apple pie is simply to die for."

Alexei nodded dazedly, bidding the two of them farewell.

"Sorry about that," Camille said, adjusting a glittering red ruby at her neck. "He hasn't been around people in a while."

"That's alright," Tessa laughed. "I rarely see him around the house so it's nice to see him getting more involved."

"Oh that's right, you live on the top floor, don't you?"

"Yep." Tessa scanned the room at that. She tried to tell herself that she had no ulterior motives for coming to the party, but every now and then her gaze would sweep across the groups of giggling partygoers, looking for that raven-haired boy.

It had only been three days since she'd last seen Will, but he hadn't come by the bookstore again and she couldn't help the small pang of disappointment every time she closed up for the evening. She couldn't explain why she felt like that. Every time he crossed her mind, he was accompanied by a flurry of mixed emotions. At the beginning the vast majority of those emotions were negative – the extremities of which she'd never truly felt before – but more recently, there was something else there too. Little sparks of light among the throbbing mass of darkness.

Like the mop of blonde hair she spotted now weaving its way through the crowd.

"Sorry, Camille," Tessa excused herself. "I've just got to deal with something."

She made her way across the room until she was in his line of sight, making him stop abruptly.

"Tess!" He grinned, looking so much like his brother in that moment.

"It's Tessa," she gritted her teeth. Definitely like his brother.

"Oh, sorry. That's always what Will calls you so I assumed…"

"Will talks about me?"

"All the time," Jace rolled his eyes. "Anyway, how are you?"

Tessa ignored the thrill that went through her at that and tried to focus on the task and hand.

"Fine, thank you. Can I have a word?" She cocked her head towards the window. "Somewhere a bit quieter."

"Sure," he shrugged, following her as she slipped around a group that had gathered to watch Isabelle and Catarina Loss perform some Backstreet Boys routine. "What's up?"

Tessa braced herself, turning to face him.

"What's going on with you and Clary?"

"What?" His eyebrows shot up and he took a step back. "Nothing, why?"

"Well, you must have said something to upset her so much."

"She's upset?" His voice softened and Tessa almost let it go, but then she remembered the sight of her friend covered in pistachios, watching Deal Or No Deal. Clary was the life of any party. If she was willing to miss one of her closest friend's birthdays just to avoid Jace, it must have been serious.

"Jace, what did you do?"

"We had a bit of an argument, that's all…" He looked sheepish.

"Just the one?" Clary had been acting all sorts of strange for a while now.

"It's just a bit of banter!" He tried to laugh it off, but Tessa's glare was unwavering. She hated that word. "I didn't realise she was taking it so hard."

"Well, she was and she still is so you need to go and apologise to her."

"Apologise to _her_? I think she needs to apologise to me first."

"Why?" Tessa narrowed her eyes.

"Because she started it!"

"How?" Tessa normally hated confrontation and had tried to avoid it at all costs before Will came along, but she wasn't going to back down. Not when someone she cared about was involved.

"Because…because…come on, you must understand how it is?"

"My best friend is hurt. What more is there to understand?"

He buckled under her scrutiny. "Fine, I'll talk to her."

"I should think so," she nodded, pleased that she had some control over the younger Herondale at least. Unfortunately, the older one had apparently decided it was now time to make an appearance of his own.

Will materialised next to Jace, dressed just as casually with a hoodie and jeans.

"Wow," he breathed. "Are you guys having some sort of staring contest or what?"

"Nope," Tessa snapped, still glaring at Jace. He'd agreed to speak to Clary but he definitely didn't look happy about it. "I'm waiting for your brother to go and fix the mess he made."

"What, you want me to talk to her _now_?" Jace raised his eyebrows.

"No time like the present," she shrugged.

"Wait, what's going on?" Will looked between the two of them warily.

"Jace upset my flatmate, Clary."

"You did what?" Will gasped, slapping Jace's shoulder with the end of his sleeve. "That is absolutely despicable, Jace. You've brought shame to the good Herondale name, you ungrateful brute."

"_Will,"_ Tessa snapped. "This is serious."

"Sorry," Will bit his lip as Jace tried to contain a smile. "Please continue."

"So, are you going to go and find her or shall I contact the landlord and tell him you're disrupting the other residents? The landlord who, by the way, is my uncle."

Jace straightened up at that and even Will looked impressed.

"You're bluffing," Jace said, looking over at Will.

"Am I?" Tessa turned to Will too and he looked distinctly uncomfortable.

"She's not bluffing," he whispered, seeming as if he might bolt at any moment.

"Alright," Jace threw his hands up. "Where is she?"

"I saw her heading towards the kitchen with Simon a second ago."

"Simon?"

"Her friend," Tessa said, almost smiling at the suspicion in his tone. "Go on, then. And don't make this any worse or I won't go so easy on you next time."

"Yeah," Will added, joining Tessa at her side. He crossed his arms and donned the most severe expression he could manage. "Be nice or I'm locking you out tonight." He looked to Tessa for approval and she simply shook her head at him as Jace stalked off.

"I must apologise on behalf on my brother," he said once the two of them were alone. "I'm trying my best to put him on the straight and narrow, but you know kids these days. No respect at all."

"Yes, thank you, Will. You were very helpful."

"Anytime," he grinned, leaning against the windowsill. It was completely dark outside save for the faint glow of the nearest streetlights. "I must say though, you were pretty scary just then, Tess."

"I should hope so," she crossed her arms over her chest, standing with her back to the wall, the window between them.

"It'll be useful in the future, y'know, that you can put Jace in his place."

"Since he's going to be my brother-in-law?" She rolled her eyes. She didn't know why she was indulging him, but it was definitely better than arguing. If they could somehow manage to maintain the fragile alliance they'd developed recently, all the better for her.

"Exactly," Will smirked. "My sisters are going to love you for that."

"And when do I get the pleasure of meeting them too?"

"As soon as I can arrange it. It's harder to get a hold of Ella since she got married, so we might have to wait until the next family dinner. Then you can meet the whole bunch in one go."

"Can't wait," she deadpanned. "I hope you'll be dressed better than you are today."

"Oh, this," he grinned, pulling at the zip of his hoodie. "Jonathan had some hang-ups about the party initially so we didn't think we were going to come down, but then he had a sudden change of heart and dragged us along as we were. I think it was all the girls he saw coming in through the window."

"Well, that would explain it. I'd hate to think this was your idea of formal attire."

"You wouldn't be able to handle me in my formal attire," he winked, shifting closer. She tightened her arms around herself. "Though I must say you look rather ravishing in your own. I prefer the towel, but this is a very close second."

Tessa blushed despite herself.

"I thought we weren't going to mention that again."

"I don't remember agreeing to that."

"How's the book coming along?" She spluttered, attempting to change the topic before he came any closer.

"Frustratingly slowly," he said, halting his advance. "Every time I think I'm getting somewhere with it, someone throws another obstacle in my way."

"Really?" Tessa arched an eyebrow. "I had no idea Anne Of Green Gables was that dramatic."

"Anne Of Green Gables?" He frowned at her. "Who mentioned Anne Of Green Gables?"

"Oh, you were talking about your own book!" She'd really hoped he wouldn't bring that up, and yet here she'd led him straight to it, albeit unwillingly. The last thing he'd said to her before he'd left the bookstore was that it was an erotic novel, a detail he'd conveniently left out all the times he'd spoken about it. She wanted to think that he was joking, but with Will, you never really knew.

"Yeah. I wasn't actually going to read Anne Of Green Gables. I just wanted to know what sort of books Tamara might be into."

Right. Tamara. The character that was quite obviously based on her.

She didn't even want to think about how she fit into his disreputable plot.

"Then why did you buy it?"

"I don't know," Will shrugged, grinning again. "To appease Luke. I've been round so much and I haven't bought a single thing so far. I was worried he'd ban me for good if I didn't buy something eventually."

"So you intend to be back…" Tessa forced herself not to smile, but she knew Will could see how much she liked that. He was entertaining, she could at least tell herself. There was nothing else to it.

"If you want me to be…" He breathed, his eyes almost black in the darkness.

Tessa's throat suddenly felt very dry as she looked back at him, unable to form a response. He'd gotten the best of her and he knew it.

"Hey, could you get me a drink?" She asked instead, glancing towards the drinks table across the room. Magnus had hired someone to serve his guests for the night.

"Err…sure." Will pushed himself away from the wall, eyeing her curiously. "I'll be right back."

"Thanks."

As soon as he was gone, she forced herself to relax.

_What was happening to her?_

Her chest felt tight and it was if someone was snatching the breaths right from her before she could release them. Will was a menace, nothing more. And now that she knew he wasn't Clary's brother, she had absolutely no obligation at all to talk to him. So why couldn't she stay away? Why did she feel so irrationally relieved when he'd appeared by Jace just moments earlier?

_Stay calm,_ she told herself.

Tessa closed her eyes, trying to compose herself. She just had to work through this logically. She had to take all of these irrational feelings and rationalise them. Why did she get so flustered whenever Will got too close to her?

Well, that was natural, of course. She couldn't control her oestrogen any more than he could control his testosterone.

Surely there must have been times she'd felt like this before?

She couldn't deny that Will was incredibly attractive and therefore, she couldn't be blamed for any effects that had on her. That was purely his fault.

_His fault,_ she repeated in her mind. _I'm completely innocent in all of this. His fault._

She could sense someone approaching her again so her eyes snapped open and she straightened up, smoothing down her dress.

But it wasn't Will who stood there to greet her.

Tessa paled.

It was Axel Mortmain.

"Theresa Gray?" His eyes bulged as he took her in. "It really is you."

How could he be here? She hadn't spoken to her first ex-boyfriend since the day they'd very publicly broken up. She could remember yelling at him across the corridor as he insulted the British Monarchy and her own modesty. Surely Magnus couldn't be friends with someone so awful?

Though then again, she supposed she had to have liked him once to agree to go out with him. It hadn't ended well, but he was friendly enough in the beginning. Perhaps his reaction to her rules was purely because he was so immature at the time.

Well, she could let bygones be bygones.

Tessa forced a smile onto her face.

"Hello, Axel. It's been a while."

"That it has," he purred, his eyes raking appreciatively over her dress. She stiffened and fought harder than ever to keep that pleasant expression on her face. "What have you been up to?"

"Work, mainly. How about you?"

"Oh," he waved his hand. "This and that. But enough about me, what brings you here? If I remember correctly, you usually hated these sorts of social gatherings."

"Magnus is a good friend of mine," she said.

"Who's Magnus? Your…boyfriend?" His lips quirked up at the sides.

"No! He's the whole reason we're here. It's his birthday!"

"Oh, right. The guy with the glitter," Axel nodded. "Yeah, I just came because Woolsey dragged me along."

That made more sense. Redeemed or not, she felt much better knowing Magnus wasn't associated with him.

"So, he's not your boyfriend, but is there anyone else on the scene?"

"No." She couldn't keep the ice out of her tone this time.

"Really?" His smirk transformed into a full-fledged grin. "No one at all? No bit on the side?"

"Of course not!" She flushed. "Don't be ridiculous!"

Apparently that was exactly what he wanted to hear.

"Of course not," Axel chuckled. "Of course, two years' later, nothing has changed. Well, I must say I admire your restraint. Very few would be able to last as long as you have, completely unaffected by the norms of society. You're truly the Ice Queen."

Tessa fumed. At least when Will had insulted her in the past, he hadn't been malicious. He just didn't know her and unfortunately managed to push all the wrong buttons. But Axel knew exactly what he was doing. He knew her inside out and he was using that to his amusement.

She was about to tear him down for being such an awful human being when Will came back, holding two glasses.

"Here you go," he said, placing one in Tessa's hands. He seemed not to have noticed Axel at all. "Sorry it took so long. There was a bit of a queue."

"Thank you," she mumbled, willing her hand to stop shaking. It was much more noticeable when she had a liquid sloshing about in it.

Axel coughed then, demanding to be noticed.

"Who's this then?" He asked, gesturing towards Will.

"Oh sorry!" Will turned to face him. "I hadn't even seen you there!" He extended his hand for Mortmain to shake. "I'm Will, Tessa's boyfriend."

Tessa was glad she hadn't touched her drink yet, because she was pretty sure she would have spat it all over Axel's face just then. Though perhaps that wouldn't have been the worst thing.

Axel's shocked expression mirrored her own as they both looked towards Will. He was grinning. Obviously.

"But…" Axel's gaze flicked between the two of them. "I thought you said you weren't with anyone?"

"Oh, that's just a little joke we have going," Will chuckled. "Most people simply can't believe that we're together so we pretend we're not, just to see their reaction when we reveal the beautiful truth."

Then he placed his free arm around Tessa's waist and pulled her into his side. His hand burned through the thin, gauzy material. She would've pushed him away immediately if it weren't for the horror on Axel's face.

"Isn't that right, pumpkin?"

Tessa could only nod her head in response, smiling tightly.

_Pumpkin._

"So, how long have you been together?"

"Almost four months!" Will was still the picture of ease but Tessa grew even more uncomfortable as Axel turned to face her. Axel knew all about her rules, of course, but Will didn't have a clue. What if he slipped up? If he'd said something as short as three weeks it would have been fine. Her two-week hand-holding rule was most commonly known to people. But what happened beyond that? It had taken two months before Jem had kissed her. Their relationship hadn't lasted longer than three.

How much could have happened after that?

"Four months?" Axel smiled slowly, sensing her internal conflict. "That's quite some time. I'm sure you've been through a lot together."

"Oh yes," Will nodded. "So much."

"So, how did you meet? I'm sure it's a fascinating story."

"Really fascinating, yes. Do you want to tell him, snugglebum?"

"No," Tessa seethed, refusing to look at him. "Why don't you, fungaltoes?"

"Sure!" Will seemed unperturbed, despite her obvious hostility. "We met at a casino." Then he moved his hand from her waist and grasped her hand instead.

Tessa's eyes bugged and she could see it hadn't gone unnoticed by Axel.

Will must have known how much she was going to rip into him as soon as her ex-boyfriend left, but he cannonballed his way through the improbable tale anyway. He was either very brave or very foolish.

"Tessa developed a bit of a gambling habit, you see. But it wasn't poker or the jackpot machines she was so addicted to, oh no! You know those ones with the claw where you have to try and direct it to a plush toy? She just couldn't stay away from them."

Axel's mouth hung open and Tessa suspected she didn't look too different.

"Will, please…" She began, squeezing his hand hard enough that she hoped it caused him some degree of pain. He didn't so much as wince.

"It's okay, honeypoo, it's all behind us now. I never judged you. So anyway, I thought I'd pop in one day and I found Tessa there, crying on the floor beside _the_ _claw._" He said the word in that same reverent tone that the aliens used in Toy Story. Clary had insisted on making Tessa watch it when she'd moved in. "She'd wasted almost her entire student finances on trying to catch this screwdriver hidden among the plush toys and she still wasn't any closer. She was at breaking point, the poor thing. It makes my heart ache just to think of it." He placed his hand upon his heart dramatically, pretending to choke up. Tessa thought that she wouldn't mind strangling him just then to increase the authenticity. "And so I offered to try to get it for her. I'm not usually the gambling type, but I was so moved by the sheer look of desperation on her face that I just had to give it a go and naturally, I succeeded on my first turn." Tessa clenched her fists, completely ignoring Will's trapped fingers. "She cried. A lot. And then she pledged herself to my service forevermore, but of course, I couldn't accept that. Instead, I made her promise to never return to the casino again and come out with me for a coffee. Of course, it was hard for her to grip the cup at first because of the carpal tunnel, but we got there in the end. And that was the beginning of our eternal love."

Axel was speechless.

Tessa had never wanted to kill someone so much in her life.

"Wow," he finally spluttered. "That's really quite the story."

"Yes," she said, eerily calm. "It really is."

"It must be very new for you, Tessa." Axel was now looking at her. "To be in such a committed relationship requires a lot of compromise, I should think."

"Not really." She gritted her teeth, crushing his hand again. "Will knows who's in charge, don't you phlegm-cake?"

"That I do," he laughed, then he did the most scandalous thing she possibly could have imagined.

Worse than holding hands.

Will leant over and planted a kiss on her cheek.

Axel was mortified, but that couldn't compare to the emotions churning inside of Tessa. No one had ever kissed her. No one but Jem, and they'd been in an _actual_ serious, committed relationship.

Will was someone she occasionally tolerated. Whether it was a pretence or not, the fact that he had done something so intimate and exclusive completely horrified her. He couldn't have known about her rules, but he did know _her_. At least, he knew enough to have apologised for the time he'd caught her shoulders while she was in the towel.

Though she despised the word and continuously insisted it wasn't accurate, he knew she was a prude.

She might have let the hand-holding go. It was obvious that Axel would need some sort of proof to believe their ridiculous story. But a kiss?

The only good that came out of it was that Axel was more than pacified. After that, he couldn't question that the two of them were together and after muttering a weak farewell, he left them alone.

Will didn't release her until he was out of sight.

But the moment he did, she stormed off.

Tessa felt devastated. Violated, even.

And worse still, she could still feel his lips on her.

* * *

**Oops.**

**Not the best move, William.**

**You'll find out what happens with both of the girls in the next chapter - and it's going to be fairly explosive-, but for now I'd love to know your thoughts and theories! **

**Also, I forgot to mention this the last time, but I couldn't believe how many of you were asking me who Tokio Hotel are. I know they've been fairly inactive for a while but I didn't think they'd be forgotten so soon :( If you've never heard of them, do yourself a favour and go and listen to the song 'Monsoon.' Or if you're German and for some wild reason also have no idea they exist (though really, how!?) then check out 'Durch den Monsun.' Then imagine a 14-year old me crying over it. I'm withholding judgement on their new material until I hear the whole album, but Zimmer 483 was the soundtrack to my early teens, so I feel like it's my duty to spread the love. If you need more convincing, they're german, started out when they were like 13 and contain a set of twin brothers. Just go listen. You won't regret it.****  
**

**Anyway, thank you all for reading :)**

**Till the next time...**

**smim xx**


	9. Redemptions

**Hi guys! I decided to post this a day earlier since so many of you were eager for the next update, so here it is! **

**Thank you so much for all of the reviews from the last chapter. I've been busy packing all week for university so I'm sorry if I didn't get back to you. I did read every single one though and usually ended up skipping around the house shortly afterwards. You guys are the best :')**

**Just a sort of warning: I did mention it at the start of the fic, but I just wanted to reiterate that this fic is slightly more adult than my previous ones, so there will be a few themes explored that some of you aren't used to. Just remember, all of the characters are adults and the legal drinking age in the UK is 18. Figured I'd clear that up beforehand.**

**Anyway, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own TMI, TID or any of their characters, but I can do a mean Macarena.**

* * *

_**A Tale Of Two…**_

**9. Redemptions**

_29__th__ January [Part Three]_

The room swayed as Clary finally emerged from the kitchen, writhing bodies sashaying in and out of her vision. A thumping bass from the stereo matched the rhythm of the throbbing in her head as she tried to gain her bearings.

She'd failed.

She'd promised herself that she would be sensible tonight and keep a handle on how much she drank, but it hadn't quite panned out that way.

Three glasses of wine.

That's all it had taken to make her unsteady on her feet.

Clary knew she was a lightweight but that was a record even for her. She supposed that the jumble her thoughts were already in was likely to have exacerbated the effects of the alcohol, but she hadn't completely lost control. Not yet. As she greeted a few of the other guests she was pleased to find that her words weren't slurred and she was able to hold a normal conversation. If anything, she was bubblier than she normally would have been and it helped to dissipate some of the clouds that had been raining down on her for the past few days.

As long as she didn't have anything else to drink, she should be fine. Her balance was questionable even on a good day, so other than that, no one would notice any change in her. Clary was expected to be chatty. She was expected to smile and laugh and joke around.

She scarfed down a slice of Alec's homemade apple pie and had a couple of glasses of water, chasing away the rest of the cobwebs. She felt better already.

"Compliments to the chef," she nodded at him as he came to check on her. "This pie is to die for."

"Ah, it was nothing really," he scratched the back of his head. Alec embarrassed easily. "But thank you. Where have you been, anyway? Isabelle was looking for you."

"Oh you know, here and there…" She smiled lazily at him. "Thither and yonder. Over the hills and far away."

"Clary, are you drunk?"

_Damn._ How had he noticed so quickly? She thought she'd been doing a good job of hiding it.

"I think the real question here is, Alexander, are _you_ drunk?"

"Maybe we should take you upstairs…" He looked about himself, presumably trying to spot his sister.

"That's awfully forward of you, Mr Lightwood," she laughed, poking him in the chest. "I was thinking we could at least get dinner first. Though I suppose, you did make me this pie…"

"Clary." She could tell he was trying to keep a straight face, but he couldn't hide the blush creeping across his cheeks.

"Please don't tell Tessa," she begged, grabbing the lapels of his jacket. "I promised I'd behave."

"Tessa just left," he told her, then realised his mistake as Clary perked up.

"Then I guess I don't need to behave." She unhanded Alec and reached over to grab an entire bottle of Rosé out of the waiter's startled hands.

"I don't think so." Alec snatched it right back from her, lifting it out of her reach. "Tessa might not be here, but _I_ am and I say you've had enough."

Wow. She'd never seen him be this assertive before. If it weren't for the fact he was deeply in love with their host – and also wasn't interested in girls – she might have been a little bit in love too.

"Alright, bossy boots. I'll just have to find another way to entertain myself then."

Clary grinned wickedly and sauntered off, leaving a grumbling Alec in her wake.

-o-O-o-

"Please, just listen to me!"

Tessa ignored Will as she flew down the steps outside the house and walked off into the night. It was freezing cold and her shoes weren't exactly suitable for a quick getaway, but she couldn't think of anything past her own rage and humiliation.

Will had kissed her.

He'd kissed her and touched her and held her hand.

And for what? A simple ruse. She didn't care what his motivations were. He probably had some sort of gallant excuse about how he was trying to rescue her from Mortmain's evil clutches and felt that he should do whatever was necessary to protect her, but she didn't want or need it.

Tessa Gray could take care of herself, thank you very much.

"Tessa, you're going to catch a cold." He was closer now, his footsteps echoing on the pavement behind her. She hadn't bothered to turn to look at him, but she had a feeling he would have followed her as soon as she thundered out of the party. He had a habit of being annoying like that.

When she realised he wasn't going to leave her alone, she crossed over the road and flung open the gates of the park that sat across from their street. The grass was already coated with frost and it crunched under her heels as she headed for the furthest wooden bench. The park was completely deserted at this time of night, but she felt like making him walk for as long as possible, despite how much her own feet were already beginning to ache.

The bench she selected was a few yards from a little pond, the water rippling beneath the moonlight.

Tessa sat herself down on the far edge, crossing both her arms and her legs and stared frostily ahead.

Will stopped a few feet away. She could feel his eyes on her but he made no attempt to sit down beside her.

"Tess…" His voice fell flat in the night air, carried off by the wind. "Look, I'm sorry."

"It doesn't matter," she sniffed, still refusing to look at him. Will had this way of bringing down her defences just as easily as he could get them up, and she was worried that if she turned to him, he'd manage to weasel his way back into her good books.

"I probably shouldn't have kissed you."

"You _think_!?" She snapped, unable to stop herself from glaring at him.

Will looked sheepish, holding glasses in both of his hands. She must have thrust her drink at him when she walked out. He watched her carefully and placed them gently on the arm of the bench, treating her as if she were some wild animal ready to pounce, before straightening up again.

"It just didn't look like he was believing me."

"You told him I was a gambling addict! Of course he didn't believe you!" Then something else occurred to her. "Why did you pretend to be my boyfriend anyway?"

He couldn't have known who Axel was, but she was too shocked at the time to fully comprehend what he was doing.

"I heard him talking to you before I barged in," Will said. "You looked about ready to tear his head off. An ex, I take it?"

"Yeah." She could feel the cold starting to get to her, goose bumps forming on her skin. Tessa hugged herself tighter, trying to be inconspicuous as she rubbed her arms. She could tell that had peaked his interest but he didn't push for any more information.

"It's freezing out here, Tess." Of course Will would notice her discomfort. "Let's go back inside."

"I'm not going anywhere with you." She turned her gaze back to the pond, flinching as he sat down next to her. Thankfully he had the sense to leave a decent gap between them. They just sat in silence, their breaths puffing out like dragon's smoke.

"You don't have to take it so personally," he said after a minute or so. "I would have done it for anyone."

That wasn't what she wanted to hear.

Whether or not such chivalry was second nature to him, Tessa wasn't just _anyone._ He knew her. It hadn't been long since he'd forced his way into her life, but he'd gotten to know her well enough to realise that she wouldn't have appreciated his act.

He understood that she had aversions to intimacy and that she wouldn't have brushed it off like everyone else.

"What can I do?" He was looking at her now and she could imagine how his blue eyes would widen as he pleaded with her. "How can I put this right?"

"You can't," she said, but it came out sounding more resigned rather than holding the anger she had intended. He'd broken her rule. Broken a lot of her rules, in fact. He couldn't take that back.

"Do you want me to go back and tell him you're not my girlfriend?"

"No." What he'd done was wrong, but he'd managed to get rid of Axel. She was glad not to have to deal with that. "But you can go back."

"Not a chance." Will crossed his arms over his chest, mimicking her position exactly. "As long as you're staying out here, so am I."

Tessa seethed.

Stupid, stubborn idiot.

"Fine, but I'm not going back in anytime soon."

"Fine."

"_Fine."_

She gritted her teeth, mainly to stop them from chattering, but also because she could not believe she'd gotten herself into his mess. Neither of them was going to yield. That much was clear.

The tension between them crackled like a thing alive.

They'd be stuck outside all night at this rate.

"Two weeks," she finally whispered. She knew he was listening, hanging off her every word. "That's always been my condition. If a guy can last two weeks without so much as holding my hand, I know he's worth it."

"How many have made it?"

Tessa turned to him in surprise. She'd been expecting him to laugh and ridicule her. Instead, his expression was completely earnest.

"Just one," she said.

"The one who gave you that necklace?"

Her hand flew to the pendant at her neck. Jem's pendant.

"What makes you think that?"

"Lucky guess," he shrugged. "I've just noticed you hold onto it a lot. I figured there was something sentimental about it."

He didn't miss a thing, did he? Tessa could only stare at him, the stone suddenly feeling heavier. The chain pulled at her, coaxing her to look at it instead.

But all Tessa could see was Will and that unlikely understanding in his eyes.

"What was his name?" There was edge to his voice, but she couldn't tell why.

"J…" Tessa paused. "James." She couldn't bring herself to say Jem for some reason. Jem felt too familiar. It was the name she whispered to herself sometimes, crying at the memory of him. Jem was the boy who'd torn her heart out.

James, however, was someone she could pretend she didn't know. Someone whose name she could say without dredging up all those feelings.

"What happened?"

"He left." Keep it short. Keep it simple. She wouldn't fall apart around Will. She outright _refused_ to.

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah," she mumbled, letting her hand drop to her lap. "Me too."

Just like he somehow managed to figure out everything else about her, he seemed to know she didn't want to say any more on the topic.

A silence settled around them once again, but it wasn't uncomfortable this time.

"Wait!" Will's voice was loud enough for a small animal to go shooting into the bushes. His eyes lit up as he shifted towards her, his face eager. "Two weeks, right? That's your rule?"

"Yes…" She eyed him warily.

"And you were so upset because I broke it. I broke the rule." Not a question. A statement.

"Yes."

Will pulled the sleeve of his hoodie aside and studied something at his wrist. His watch, Tessa realised.

"How long would you say we've been out here?"

"I don't know," Tessa shrugged. "Ten, maybe fifteen minutes?"

"It's half past twelve," he said, glancing up to grin at her.

"And? Don't tell me you're going to turn back into a mouse or something." She tried to think of where he might have been going with this, but she was pulling up blanks. With Will, there was no knowing where his mind might take him next.

"That means it was past midnight when we were talking to Axel, so it was already the 30th January."

"So?" She was still confused as hell, but his excitement was catching. His grin spread.

"I met you on the 16th January, Tessa. That's the day the flat's contract started. So…"

"It's been two weeks," she breathed, her heart leaping out of her chest. "I met you two weeks ago!"

She knew his dates were accurate because that was the first day she'd gone back to work after Jem broke up with her. Her pact with Clary was to last a month because the girls were left to be single on the 14th. They'd spent the entirety of the next day watching films and wallowing in their misery, and then Tessa had gone back to work on the 16th.

The day Will Herondale had walked into her shop, mocked Dickens and become the single most annoying person she'd ever met.

Exactly a fortnight ago.

"I mean, I know it probably doesn't count because I didn't formally ask you out or anything, but _technically,_ you did know me for two weeks before I held your hand."

"Technically will do," she waved him off, burying her face in her hands.

She was okay.

Her rules hadn't been broken. Not completely, anyway.

She'd ignore the kissing part since she didn't have an official cut-off date for that. That was the kind of territory she hadn't ventured into enough to have any sorts of rules. But she'd managed to uphold her values and her conditions, despite it all.

She also vaguely registered that that meant she was about half way through the pact, but it hadn't been something she'd dwelt on too much lately. There was no danger of her breaching that.

"My goodness," she sighed, leaning her head back against the bench. "That was close."

"Very close," he agreed, still smiling widely at her.

After a while, she allowed herself to smile back.

-o-O-o-

Before Clary could stop herself, she'd dragged Jace into the hallway and pushed him up against the wall.

Entertainment. That's what she wanted.

Well, there was no one more entertaining than Jace.

"Clary, what are you doing?" She could tell he was trying to keep his expression cold and aloof, but he couldn't hide his surprise as she planted her hands on either side of him.

"I just want to talk," she said, smiling up at him angelically. For too long he'd kept her on the back foot, always waiting for Jace to explain himself or make the first move. It was nice making _him_ squirm for once.

"Why?"

She leaned in closer.

Oh yes, he was definitely squirming.

"Because that's what friends do, right?" Her eyes widened innocently. "You said you wanted us to be friends, so that's what we'll be." She batted her eyelashes a couple of times. "Friends."

Jace grabbed the tops of her arms and her smile widened. Until he pushed her away.

"What's gotten into you, Fray?"

"Nothing yet," she winked, trying to move closer again but his hands held firm, arms outstretched. "But I'm hoping to change that."

"I thought blondes weren't your type." She thought she could detect some bitterness there and quite honestly, she loved it.

"I lied. But so did you, so really, we're even."

"What did I lie about?"

"Anything. Everything. I saw how jealous you were when you walked in on me and Jonathan earlier." The way he'd glared at her had upset her initially, hence why she'd had so much more to drink, but now she couldn't help but think that it was a good thing. He didn't know Jonathan was her brother, but he definitely didn't like the idea of her being with anyone else. If that didn't prove he liked her, what did?

"I was _not_ jealous." There it was again. That defensive glare, proving she'd hit the mark.

"It's okay," she patted his hands, pinning them to her shoulders. "It wasn't what it looked like."

"I don't care. It's none of my business."

"It can be, if you want it to be." She lowered her voice, biting her lip. It had the desired effect.

His eyes flicked from side to side as if he were waiting for someone to swoop in and rescue him. Rescue him from tiny, harmless Clary Fray. She could have laughed.

"Clary, how much have you had to drink?"

"I'm going to need a more specific timeframe to answer that question," she said, pleased that it had taken him so long to notice something was wrong.

Not that she'd use the term 'wrong' to describe how she was currently feeling. Different, was more like it. She was completely in control of herself, but it was if the iron mask had slipped. All this time she'd been supressing her true self, allowing him to get her all hot and flustered and unsteady, but now there was nothing to hold her back.

She didn't care what mind games he'd been weaving around her. Playtime was over.

It was now or never. Either he was going to tell her the truth and show her how he really felt, or she'd find someone else to occupy her time.

She was sick. So sick of being alone.

"God," he groaned, definitely starting to panic now. "You're drunk. You have to be."

"I have drunk," she admitted. "But whether I _am _drunk is a completely different matter and a rather subjective one, at that. Do I seem drunk to you?"

"Well, you're being awfully eloquent…" Jace pursed his lips, though he didn't loosen his hold on her. Was he really so scared of what she'd do to him? She certainly hoped so. "But that's not exactly normal for you, so maybe."

"Hey!" Clary pouted at him and noticed how his eyes drifted to her lips. "I am always eloquent."

"That's also subjective." He let go of her, but kept his hands out.

A warning.

Then he swore at her. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

"You put those down!" She gasped, folding his two fingers down. "Hasn't anyone ever told you it's rude to swear at a lady?"

"Firstly," he rolled his eyes, but the beginning of a smile tugged at his lips. "I wouldn't exactly call you a lady. But secondly, and most importantly here, is that swearing would require my hand to have faced the other way. It was more the peace sign that I was holding up."

Clary started to protest, but she realised that he was right.

"Which suggests that yes, you probably are drunk," he concluded, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I knew you were holding up two," Clary hedged, but there was no fooling him now. "That's a very pretty bracelet." She said instead, pointing to a brown leather band at his wrist. His expression was stony as he waited for her to settle down.

"I'm not _that_ drunk," she insisted. "If I was, would I be able to do this?"

Clary started performing the Macarena, stumbling a little when she had to jump to the side in her heels, but otherwise she managed to execute all of the moves perfectly. No intoxicated person could be quite that slick.

Let him try to call her drunk now.

"See?" She raised her eyebrows at him once she'd completed a full rotation. To her delight, he was grinning. "I'm completely of sound mind."

"Drunk or not, I don't think I could quite agree to that statement," he shook his head, still chuckling. "But I think you have proven that you've had enough for one night. Where's Tessa?"

"No idea." It came out sounding harsher than she'd intended.

"Fine, then I'll have to take over instead." He placed his hands on her shoulders and used them to steer her towards the stairs. "Let's get you upstairs."

"Wow. First Lightwood, now you. I'm a lucky girl."

"Clary. Just walk."

She rolled her eyes, but didn't resist as he began to lead her back to her flat.

It looked like Jace had been the right option after all.

-o-O-o-

"So," Will explained, now sprawled out beside her on the bench. "I'm Welsh but we'd already moved to Salisbury before Jace was born, so the younger two are both English. I guess that's why Ella and I are the favourites."

"What's wrong with being English?!" Tessa nudged him with her shoulder.

"Nothing," he amended quickly. "Nothing at all."

"Exactly," she nodded, sipping at her lemonade. It was frightfully cold but it gave her something to do whenever Will said something particularly inciting. She was astounded when Will had first handed it to her and found that it wasn't alcoholic. He'd assumed that's what she'd meant when she asked him for a drink and didn't want to take any chances, and once again, he'd been right. It's not that Tessa didn't drink, but she definitely avoided it on weeknights.

She was sure he'd stop surprising her at some point, but it wasn't anytime soon.

Those brilliant blue eyes were still watching her when she looked back up at him, sending a completely different sort of shiver down her spine.

"Alright, that's enough," he said, beginning to unzip his black hoodie.

"What?" She sat up immediately. "What are you doing?"

He shrugged it off and handed it to her.

"Put it on."

"Seriously?" She arched an eyebrow. "You're pulling the whole jacket move?"

"Actually, I'm pulling the whole 'you're not catching hypothermia on my watch' move," he insisted, waving it at her. "Go on. Or am I going to have to start calling you Tessa Blue?"

"But then…" Tessa shifted uncomfortably. Was there some ulterior motive behind this or was he just being gentlemanly? She honestly couldn't tell. "But then you'll be cold."

"I've got thick skin."

He didn't seem like he going to back down so she reluctantly took the hoodie off him and slipped her own arms through it, drowning in the size of it. The warmth embraced her immediately and along with it came the scent of his cologne. Musky and powerful and well, gloriously manly.

Was that the kind of girl she was now? Did she like manly men?

Tessa had never given much thought to it before. She'd dated both Jem and Axel because they'd been kind to her. They'd started as friends and then when they had showed some interest to go beyond that, she was willing to try it out. She didn't think there was a specific sort of guy she went for, because she'd never actually _gone for_ anyone. They'd all come to her.

But if she did have a type, she thought then that it would probably be Will. Aesthetically, anyway. She loved the way those deep blue eyes of his shone against his raven black hair. She loved the curve of his lips, the angles of his jaw. He was the prime example of all those fictional characters she'd grown up dreaming about.

_Aesthetically,_ she reminded herself.

The comparisons stopped there.

Though, after having spent god-knows-how-long sitting here and talking to him, she supposed he wasn't quite as bad as she'd once thought he was. Underneath the sarcasm and the insults, there was a boy who really did care about people.

_Really far underneath._

He'd listened intently as she told him what life was like growing up with her great-grandfather in Yorkshire. He'd chuckled at her stories of Gottshall, their just as ancient groundskeeper, and sat in silence as she described the events leading up to her move. Her parents. Nathaniel. She didn't want words of comfort, not this long afterwards, and he didn't offer any. Then he went on to describe his own dysfunctional family and all the insane things they'd gotten up to when they were kids.

She'd almost cried with laughter when he told her about the time he and a nine-year-old Jace had been caught rifling around their grandmother's bedroom. They'd been looking for a golden chain that they could use to 'bling up' their conkers.

"We'd have been the talk of the playground," he insisted, his eyes glazing over. "But then Ella walked in and threatened to tell Gran everything unless we pretended we just wanted to be pretty instead. So she made us parade around the household bedecked in jewels and Imogen found it so funny that she wasn't even mad at the end of it."

They talked and talked, both of them forgetting about the time and the weather until their evening came to a rather abrupt ending.

Tessa hadn't noticed Will had stopped listening to her until he hopped up onto the bench, tensed in a crouch.

"Don't move," he told her, watching the pond. "Stay calm."

"What is it?!" She shot upright, looking about herself frantically.

"Ten o'clock," Will murmured. "Hostile."

"I can't see anything…"

"Sorry, I meant two o'clock."

Tessa adjusted her view accordingly and spotted a little squat figure, waddling by the edge of the pond.

"Don't make any sudden movements," he said. "They can sense fear."

"Will." Her heartbeat relaxed. "That's a duck."

"Exactly," he nodded vigorously. "Now get behind me."

"You're scared of ducks?"

When she saw the crazed look in his eyes, confirming her suspicions, she couldn't contain herself. And this time, she did cry.

"Whatever," he grumbled, jumping onto the grass. "Make fun of me all you want, but I'll be the one laughing when it pecks your eyeballs out and gorges upon your innards."

It turned out that Tessa's manic laughter had been enough to scare it off, but Will was still on edge as she pushed him out of the park and they made their way back to the house.

No, if Tessa had a type at all, perhaps it wouldn't have been Will. But at that moment, there wasn't anyone else she'd rather have been with.

-o-O-o-

Jace was terrified.

He could deal with indifference. He could deal with sadness. He could even deal with anger.

But a confident, horny Clary Fray with absolutely no filter at all?

He could not deal with that.

He tried to ignore the way she pressed into him as she fumbled for her flat keys, taking just a little too long to open the door. She was drunk. Of course she was drunk.

How had he not seen that before?

She'd seemed so sure of herself when she'd dragged him out of the party that he was prepared to have a repeat of their argument in the bookstore. What he hadn't expected was for her to turn the tables and make _him_ feel like the inferior one.

Will had explained it in so much detail: the way you drew the women in, ensuring you were the only one they could see, then pushed. Pushed and pushed until they broke. He'd tried to make her jealous, just as Will had said. He'd tried to make her think that she wasn't even on his radar, just as Will had said.

But Will hadn't mentioned anything about getting tangled up in it too.

Jace had decided to switch up his tactics the day after they'd had that conversation with Jonathan, where he'd told them how he was constantly being boyfriend-zoned and they'd admitted they were always fling-zoned.

So the brothers decided to switch places.

They'd carried the nicknames pretty much since the day they'd become eligible: The Flirt and The Dirt.

Jace was the former. The charmer. The one who showered women with compliments and flattered them into bed.

Will was the latter. He acted as if every female he ever met wasn't worth his time and as a result, they all fought for his attention. In short, he treated them like dirt.

Both of their tactics worked flawlessly for short-term escapades, but for something more long-term, the likes of which their grandmother was looking for, they knew it wouldn't work. So instead of trying completely different methods, the Herondale boys decided that they would try out the other's technique and see if it yielded different results.

It had certainly seemed to be working for Jace so far. He noticed the way Clary studied him and the blaze in her eyes whenever he mentioned other women. Their fight in the bookstore had sealed the deal.

She wanted him. He could see it.

But what he hadn't anticipated was the surge of jealousy that had rushed him as soon as he spotted her in Jonathan's arms. Tessa had sent him to the kitchen to apologise to her, but Jace had never intended to do that at all. Instead, he'd planned on asking her out. If it looked like she was going to decline, he'd resolved on telling her the truth about the trust fund and working out some sort of arrangement with her. By being able to put up with him so far, she'd already proven she was the perfect candidate to be his girlfriend.

But was she the sort of girlfriend he could keep around until his money turned up and dump at the earliest opportunity?

He wasn't so sure anymore.

The whole deal revolved around him being in control of the situation. He had to keep a clear head so he could remind himself of the objective. The trust fund. That's all that mattered.

So how had Clary managed to get her claws into him so soon?

"Go on," he urged her, switching on the lights in the hallway.

"Ouch," she shielded her eyes. "I can't see."

"Where's your bedroom?" His patience was beginning to run thin. Where had a plan to become ridiculously rich turned into babysitting?

"This way," she turned to wink at him, suddenly steadier on her feet. He kept a straight face as she lead him down the corridor, past the infamous fuse box and the living room. There were two doors at the end of it and she pointed to the one on her left.

Her name was painted across it in a splash of colours, the script swirling and wild.

Jace reached around her to push down on the handle, once again trying to ignore the proximity between them, and eased it open.

"Goodnight, Clary." He removed his hands from her shoulders and turned to leave, but she held onto his shirt.

"I might fall over."

"Your bed's like a yard away."

"Please, Jace." Her eyes were wide, the green shockingly intense.

_Damn it._

This is why he'd made sure he wasn't facing her.

"Fine," he huffed, guiding her around various books and bags scattered on the floor so she could reach the bed without breaking her neck. She collapsed onto it with a sigh, her gold dress riding up her thighs.

Jace backed away.

"Wait!" She grabbed a hold of his wrist. "Please don't leave."

"Clary," he gazed up at the ceiling, exhaling. "Whatever you're thinking, it's not going to happen."

"Why not?"

He didn't look down, but he could picture that expression on her face just like before. Her lower lip jutting out as she pouted at him. Looking away was the only way he'd be able to maintain his control.

"Because you're not thinking straight right now and when you wake up, aside from the awful hangover you're going to have, you're going to go straight back to being angry with me. That's why."

"I'm not angry with you, you silly man."

She sounded so sure of herself that he let himself look back down. Clary was sitting up on the bed, a blanket wrapped around her.

"'Friends don't make the other feel like crap.' That's what you said to me the other day." He sat down beside her, keeping a careful distance. "I've been awful to you. You have every right to be angry."

He'd never have admitted that to her when she was sober, but he felt a little better having said it. Though he may have had a bigger plan on the horizon, it wasn't in his nature to be so cruel. Even Will never went out of his way to upset people. He just ignored them. But when Clary had refused to leave his attention, he'd had to resort to harsher methods.

"Did you mean it?" She said, her voice barely above a whisper. There was no trace of the giddiness in her before as her eyes locked onto him. Sharp, alert. "When you said you didn't care?"

"What do you think?" He whispered back. He knew she probably wouldn't remember this in the morning, but he couldn't bring himself to add more.

Silence fell between them.

Then Clary grabbed him by the collar and pulled him down.

* * *

**Uhm.**

**So yeah. More on that in the next chapter (please don't kill me).**

**Thoughts?**

**Anyway, I'm back to uni on Monday, about to embark on my final year of higher education! I literally cannot believe how fast it's all gone. As far as this story goes, I will endeavour to continue updating once a week, but once I'm back, I can't guarantee I'll be quite as punctual. This is going to be a very important (and ridiculously stressful year) so I'm going to have to prioritise my workload above all else. If a weekend does ever pass without an update, I'll try and let you know via the update link on my profile, but work will probably be the main answer. Again, I will do my best. But yeah, just thought I'd let you all know.**

**Thank you so much for reading!**

**Till the next time...**

**smim xx**


	10. Risks

**Hellooo! I was meant to upload this last night but I got caught up at my friend's house party, so sorry about that. And no, nothing quite as interesting as this happened aha.**

**I just wanted to say a big thank you to the anons that I got for the time. I hate that I can never reply to you guys but I really do appreciate everything you have to say and it means a lot that you continue to offer your thoughts chapter after chapter. I love you all.**

**It's also been great to see some of your theories about what's about to happen. Between a few of you, you've managed to piece together almost one of the plot points, but no one's come close to the main twist yet ;) The hints have been deliberately vague so far so I'd be very impressed if someone managed to even guess the nature of the twist, but yes, kudos to those of you who have been trying to decipher my cryptic clues. I haven't been making it easy.**

**But anyway, on with the story and I feel like you may like this one...**

**Disclaimer: I do not own TMI, TID or any of their characters and I'm awful at card games. Unless it's UNO. UNO is life.**

* * *

_**A Tale Of Two…**_

**10. Risks**

_30__th__ January_

Everything hurt.

The sunlight streaming in through her windows. The sound of the kettle whistling from the kitchen.

Her feet. Her head.

Clary was a wreck.

She pulled the blanket over her face, pressing it to her forehead as if that would somehow stop the pounding headache her body was submitting her to. Okay, so maybe she'd brought it upon herself. Clary remembered her plan to stick to half a glass of wine last night and she especially remembered tossing that aside.

She could recall the way Jace had looked at her after he walked in on her hugging Jonathan and how her spirits had plummeted. After that, the glass had just kept filling up.

The problem was, she didn't remember much of what happened after that.

"Clary?" Her bedroom door opened a crack and Tessa peeked her head inside.

"Hey," Clary mumbled, pushing the blanket aside enough to expose her left eye to the blinding light.

"How are you feeling?" Tessa walked in, carrying a steaming mug of what smelt like coffee and a plate holding two slices of toast. She placed them all on her bedside table and then knelt down beside her.

"Like crap."

"Hmm. Alec told me you'd gotten a bit carried away last night."

"Did he now?" Had she run into Alec? That must have been one of the things that slipped her mind.

"How did you get back upstairs? He said he couldn't find you after that and neither could Simon or Isabelle."

"I…" Clary struggled with the memory. How had she gotten back to the flat? She knew enough of her habitual drunken behaviour to know that her balance was almost always affected. It was unlikely she'd made it back up on her own. "Someone helped me."

"Your brother?"

"Yeah," she nodded weakly, the motion setting off the dysfunctional orchestra in her head. "Must have been."

Aside from the Lightwood siblings and Simon, she couldn't think of anyone else who was left at the party that would have bothered to take care of her.

"It's my fault," Tessa sighed, guilt washing her features. "I shouldn't have left. I should have been there for you."

"Don't be stupid," Clary waved her off. "I shouldn't have been careless enough to get drunk in the first place. I promised you I wouldn't."

"That doesn't matter now." She pushed herself off the floor and smoothed out her blouse. "At least you're safe. Alec had me worried sick when he stopped me in the hallway so it was a relief when I found you asleep in here. Right, well, I'm off to uni now and then I'll be finishing late at work, so I won't see you until dinner. But I checked your timetable and you don't have anything until your afternoon class with Professor Fade, so have your breakfast and make sure you're ready in time."

"I will." Clary managed a weak smile. "Thanks, Tessa."

"You're welcome."

Clary winced at the sound of the door shutting but was relieved to find that she didn't feel the need to vomit.

Her afternoon class with Professor Fade: that's what Tessa had said she needed to be ready for. It seemed like timetabling hadn't factored in her class change yet, so she had little choice but to brave it one last time and then join the other lecture group next week. The group without Jace.

Clary eased herself up onto her elbows, letting her eyes begin to adjust to the light and once she was sure she could support herself, she reached out for the mug of coffee that Tessa had left for her and took a sip.

The bitter liquid burned down her throat and she had to grip the side of her bed before she spilled it all down her clothes.

Her clothes.

Clary looked down.

Her clothes that weren't there.

She set the coffee mug down and slid across the bed until she was upright, peeking under her blankets. She was still wearing her bra and underwear, which was a relief, but she looked up to see her dress strewn across the floor.

Normally this wouldn't have been a big deal. On the few occasions where Isabelle or Tessa had had to take care of her – usually Tessa because Isabelle was likely to be in just as bad a state – they'd help her into her pyjamas and leave her to sleep it off. But she was sure Jonathan would never have done that. She'd have been lucky if he'd even walked her to her front door, let alone find the way back to bed.

And that's when she saw it.

The brown leather bracelet lying at the foot of the bed.

Though her mind was foggy and she couldn't remember much of the latter part of Magnus's party, that pretty brown band stood out like a beacon in her memories.

The one Jace Herondale had been wearing.

-o-O-o-

Tessa smiled to herself as she strolled down the uppermost corridor of the English department. Her conversation with Will yesterday had given her some ideas for her final-year dissertation on the role of women in Victorian literature. It wasn't the conversation so much as it was Will himself.

Speaking to him reminded her of all the different types of characters he'd pestered her about for his book and had showed her that there were some aspects of them she hadn't even considered to analyse. This was primarily because erotica was something she preferred to avoid altogether, but she couldn't deny there were undertones in the novels she'd been reading, albeit to a different extent than what Will was likely planning for his own book. She still didn't want to think too much on that. Needless to say, her academic advisor – Professor Charlotte Branwell – was delighted with her progress and that put a spring in her step as she made her way to the courtyard. She still had a couple of hours to go until her shift at the bookstore, so she'd decided to catch up on some of her compulsory reading while she waited. Few people stuck around after lectures unless they were heading to the library, so she'd expected that it would be relatively deserted.

What she hadn't expected was to see Will Herondale, leaning against one of the trees. He was facing away from her, playing with the phone in his hand and so he didn't see her come up behind him.

"Will? What are you doing here?"

Will jumped, spinning around in shock.

"Tessa?"

"What are you doing here?" She repeated, glancing about the courtyard. There were a few students milling about but thankfully none that she recognised. For some reason, she didn't like the idea of people seeing her with him.

"I was…waiting for you, of course!" He pocketed his phone and led her to the university gates by the elbow. "You took your time."

"I was in a meeting…" She narrowed her eyes at him but didn't resist as he walked her out and along the pavement. "How did you even know to find me here?"

"I didn't," he admitted, pausing by the side of the road. "Another lucky guess."

He held his hand out as a black taxi sidled to a stop beside them and opened the door, gesturing for her to get in.

"What's this?"

"A door, Tessa. Now if you'd step through it, we can begin our journey."

"What journey?"

"Well, if you're going to just stand around by the road all day, you won't find out, will you?" He cocked his head toward the taxi again and this time she slipped past him onto the leather seats. She had no idea what he was up to, but she'd come to realise that when it came to Will Herondale, sometimes it was best not to ask too many questions.

He slid in next to her and leaned forward to give the cabbie some directions. He was too quiet for her to hear all of it, but she thought she could make out the word 'Camden.'

"Will, I have to go to work soon," she pointed out as the driver revved the engine and they joined the throng of London traffic. "So whatever it is you've got planned, it's got to be quick."

"Don't worry, I'll have you back by three."

Three. That was indeed the time her shift at the bookstore started, but she had no idea how he'd known that. Again, she didn't bother to ask.

"And where exactly will we be back from?" Tessa belatedly realised how stupid it was for her to have so easily agreed to get into a car with him. She was normally so cautious that she'd never have stepped in without a comprehensive itinerary and informing at least one of her friends, but that had all gone out of the window.

A storage room rendezvous.

Midnight strolls in the park.

What was happening to her lately?

"You'll find out," was all he said, somewhat cryptically. That only increased her suspicions but she forced herself to sit back and relax. If the traffic kept up like this, this mystical journey of theirs was going to be very slow indeed.

-o-O-o-

Clary was panicking so much she could hardly breathe.

Jace had brought her back to the flat. He'd taken her to her bedroom and then somehow, she'd ended up without her dress and his bracelet was left lying on the floor.

She racked her brain, trying to figure out what happened last night and prayed to whatever god would listen that it hadn't been the unthinkable.

She wanted Jace, of course she did. But not like that.

Not while she was half out of her mind and unable to remember a single detail of it. Her only solace was that Tessa had told her she'd found her sleeping in her bed last night. If Jace had been with her, she was pretty sure her holier-than-thou friend wouldn't have failed to mention that. Of course, she had no idea what time Tessa had come back, but surely they wouldn't have been alone long enough for…

No.

She shut the thought down once again and told herself to breathe.

"Be logical, Fray," she said aloud, pacing about her room. "How would Tessa solve this?"

Details. Tessa always looked at details. So that's what Clary had to do.

Other than her dress and the bracelet, nothing else was out of place. She also hadn't been completely naked when she woke up, so that was something. With the kind of headache she'd had this morning, she thought it was unlikely that she'd have been able to do…whatever she hoped she hadn't done, and then dressed herself afterwards.

Her heartbeat slowed somewhat.

Okay, so _that_ particular thing probably hadn't happened.

But there was a lot more she could have done with her clothes still on.

Had she kissed him?

_Please, no._

Again, that was something she'd found herself fantasising about before, but to have had her first kiss with him and not remember how it felt… How_ he_ felt. That was just too unbearable to think about.

And of course, she was missing out the biggest part of the puzzle. Jace himself. Had he been just as inebriated as her or was he sober? If the latter were true, she thought she could probably put her mind to rest. Yes, Jace was irritating and they weren't currently on the best of terms, but she could give him enough credit to assume he wouldn't take advantage of her while she was drunk.

But if he was equally as tipsy…

There was a good chance she may have just broken both of the promises she'd made Tessa, including the one she'd made two weeks ago. The pact itself.

Clary slumped to the floor, her head in her hands.

She was stupid. So, so stupid.

If Tessa had known what she'd done, there's no way she would have been so calm and understanding this morning. Clary didn't deserve it. She didn't deserve her kindness.

Not when she'd abandoned her friend at the first opportunity that had arisen.

But no more.

Clary glanced at the toast on her bedside table, noting the way Tessa had cut it into four triangles with honey glazed over the top, just the way she liked it.

She forced herself up and stood resolute. She'd already let down Tessa too many times, but by _Noel Edmonds_ if she could help it, she wouldn't do it again. Tessa had told her she needed to make it to Fade's class in time and she would. She'd clean herself up and face her demons if she needed to.

Though she sincerely hoped he wouldn't be there.

-o-O-o-

The taxi finally came to a stop at the side of a busy road and Tessa glared at Will as he made her jump out on _double yellow lines_, wondering as if some undercover policeman was about to grab them at any moment for their blatant disregard of traffic safety.

"Come on," he urged, running across the road, despite the fact the 'red man' was still showing. Granted, the traffic was at a standstill, but Tessa still felt like a felon as they weaved their way through the cars to the other side.

This boy was going to be the death of her.

Sure enough, he'd brought her to Camden Market. Her senses were immediately assaulted by all the various incense fumes, foods and colours that were set up in the stalls that formed the labyrinth of the market and despite herself, she had to hold onto the back of Will's jacket to make sure she didn't lose him in the melee.

"Will!" She leaned forward to hiss into his ear. "What are we doing here?"

"You'll see," is all he said, not pausing for even a second as he navigated the complex and lead her to the end of an alley. There were less stalls here and less people as a result, but he carried on through until they reached one tucked away in the corner.

A very small man sat behind a table, his eyes lighting up as they landed on the pair of them. All around him were jewellery trees, each carrying a dazzling array of necklaces. Gold and silver, plain and embellished, big and small. Tessa didn't think she'd ever seen so many in her life.

"William!" He opened his mouth to reveal a set of shining gold teeth.

"Nigel," Will nodded in greeting, then gestured for Tessa to come closer. "It's been a while." She realised she was still holding onto his jacket and made a show of shaking him off.

"So, to what do I owe the pleasure? Is it business or well, pleasure?"

"Always both when it comes to you…" Will laughed. Tessa raised her eyebrows but said nothing. "But primarily business this time. My friend here would like a necklace."

"Sorry," Tessa butted in. "Excuse us for a second." She removed her gaze from Nigel and turned to Will, dragging him far enough away from the stall that she hoped the merchant wouldn't be able to hear them. "What?"

"A necklace," Will repeated, still smiling. "You need a necklace."

"I have a necklace." She looked pointedly at the green pendant hanging at her neck.

"Well, we're getting you a new one."

"What if I don't want a new one?" Tessa held onto it protectively. Had he really brought her all the way out here just to buy some jewellery?

"Then that's up to you," he shrugged. "But I think it'd do you some good to have a change."

"Why would I want to change it?"

"I had a friend called James too," he said in response, ignoring her question. "He was my best friend, actually. We went to primary school together and even the first couple of years of secondary school, but then his dad's job got relocated to London and he moved away." Will avoided her gaze. "I was devastated. We'd made this pact, you see. We promised we'd never leave each other, no matter what. But he broke it. We were barely twelve and he left me. All alone. It wasn't his fault, I understood that afterwards, but I hated him for it at the time. I was so angry that I threw away everything. Everything that had ever reminded me of him and every letter he sent me afterwards. Eventually he stopped writing and there was nothing left. Nothing to tell me where he was or how I could speak to him again. And then I realised it was me." He raised his eyes, the blue deeper and darker than she'd ever seen it. "_I_ broke the pact. _I_ abandoned him. There hasn't been a day since that I haven't regretted it."

It took Tessa a while to find her voice.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because then I realised something. After all the things that I'd thrown away, the only ones I wished I could bring back were his letters. I didn't need objects to remind me of what he'd meant to me, I just needed him. Just like you don't need that necklace anymore. I see the way you cling to it, as if it's the only thing you've got left to hang on to, but that's not true. You're strong, Tessa. You don't need a sentimental trinket to remind you of him. I'm not saying you should get rid of it. Quite the opposite, actually. But I think it would do you some good to have something take its place, something that won't bring you as much pain as it does comfort. Something entirely yours."

Once again, her throat felt dry. Will was still looking at her with that intensity and she couldn't bring herself to look away.

"So…what? _You're_ going to buy me another necklace?"

"Me?" He scoffed and just like that, he was back to normal. Light and cheery and carefree. "No chance, love. I'm broke. You're buying yourself a necklace."

"Wait," she held up a hand. "Let me get this straight. You've dragged me half the way across London to buy _myself_ a necklace that I don't even think I need?"

"Pretty much," he grinned. "But it wouldn't make sense for me to do it. If I bought you one, you'd associate it with me. The whole point of this is so you'll stop relying on other people and realise that you need no one but yourself. And besides, I did pay for the taxi."

"Will…"

"Just have a look," he insisted, hands out. "If you don't like any of them, no harm done. But if you do…"

"Fine." She rolled her eyes, trudging back to the stall. "I'll have a look." Nigel hadn't moved an inch.

She told herself she was only doing this to humour him, but as she passed her gaze over the assortment of chains and pendants dangling from the trees, she couldn't help but hold her breath. They were magnificent. Not one necklace looked like another and each of them felt as if they had their own story, some epic journey that they'd been on to sit in front of her today.

And then on the highest branch, she saw the most magnificent one of all.

It gleamed in the light of the sun, the bronze wings outstretched to reveal the complex working of cogs beneath. She knew it couldn't have been the one she'd dreamed of: the one her mother used to wear. No, that one had been lost in the accident that had killed her parents. But it looked _so_ similar.

She glanced at her side to find Will smirking at her and realised that she'd been gaping at it in awe.

"So," Nigel looked up. "Anything take your fancy?"

Tessa ignored Will's triumphant grin as she focused her attention on the vendor. "The clockwork angel," she asked. "How much is it?"

Nigel pursed his lips and named his price. Tessa tried to hide her disappointment. She wasn't even carrying half that amount on her.

"Say, Nigel," Will stepped forward. "Perhaps we could do some sort of deal?"

"I'm listening…"

"How about I play you for it?"

"Will, you don't need to…" Tessa began, but he cut her off.

"He owes me, don't you Nigel? Do you remember that game of poker we played at the Devil's Tavern?"

Nigel's mouth dropped open and he looked incredibly uncomfortable. Tessa felt much the same way. She mentally added gambling to the list of Will's other vices.

"I wasn't cheating…"

"So you say," Will smirked. "But I covered for you anyway, didn't I? So how about it? You name the manner of play then, if I win, we take the necklace, free of charge. If you win, I never hold this over your head again."

Nigel stared at him, fiddling with the many rings on his fingers. _Six fingers_, she noted.

"Alright," he sighed, pulling out a deck of cards. He spread it out in front of him. "Let's keep this simple. Highest card wins."

"Deal." Will leaned forward, inspecting the pile. Then as if given some otherworldly cue, he slapped his hand down on a card a third of the way from the right and snatched it up, keeping it close to his chest. Nigel did the same, taking far longer than Will had done as he scanned the downturned deck.

When both of them had their respective cards, Nigel placed his on the table. He grinned. "Jack of Clubs."

Tessa stiffened. She didn't play cards much, but she was pretty sure that would be hard to beat.

Will didn't hesitate as he threw his own card down. "I win," he said, indicating towards the Ace of Spades.

"You do not!" Nigel stood up abruptly, his head in line with their waists. "The Ace is the lowest card. It goes Ace, Two, Three."

"Not by my reckoning," Will shook his head, hands braced on the table so he could look Nigel in the eye. "It's Jack, Queen, King, _Ace_."

"Don't think you can fool me, William Herondale. I know your ways."

"Then you should know that there's no way I'm leaving here without that necklace. Hand it over, Nigel."

"Never."

"I'll settle this," Tessa said, to both her surprise and theirs. She hated gambling, absolutely detested it, but she knew all too well that if she didn't intervene soon, things could go horribly awry. And heavens, how she _needed_ that necklace. "I'll pick the next card. If it's a King or Queen, we win. No contest."

"Tess…"

"Is that fair, Nigel?" She ignored Will, turning to the dwarf.

Nigel growled at Will, but eventually conceded. He knew their chances were slim. "Okay, King or Queen you win. But any other card, and you pay me _twice_ the price of the necklace."

"That wasn't the deal," Will stepped to block her from the table. "We're not doing it."

"Then you lose," he shrugged, sitting back down on his stool.

"Fine, we lose." Will took Tessa by the arm and started to lead her away, but she stopped him.

"Deal," she said instead, facing down Nigel.

Will's eyes bugged. "Tessa, are you insane?"

"Maybe," she whispered, but that didn't stop her from reaching down and selecting a card from the deck. She had no idea what was making her so reckless, but there was something about that necklace. Something that told her she had to have it, no matter what. She didn't have the money on her right now, but she had other things she could trade in the meantime.

"Go on then, girl." Nigel sneered at her, his mouth lifting in a feral grin. "Let's see what you've got."

Tessa hadn't even checked what the card was herself, but she threw it down in front of her. She wouldn't fail. She _couldn't_ fail.

Nigel hissed and she knew she'd been right. She'd already begun smiling before she saw it - the Queen of Hearts.

-o-O-o-

Clary hadn't even realised she'd been holding her breath until she spied the half-empty theatre, the row she usually occupied completely devoid of that dreaded blonde hair. She did a quick check to make sure he hadn't decided to sit elsewhere, but again, nothing.

Jace hadn't turned up.

Malcolm Fade waved at her as she made her way up the steps, feeling ten times lighter than she had this morning. She knew she probably couldn't avoid him forever and to be honest, she really did want to know exactly what had happened between them, but it could wait for another day. One where she didn't feel quite as hung over.

If anything, it was nothing short of a miracle that she'd been able to reach the university in one piece and even now her head throbbed as she struggled to pay attention to Malcolm's lecture. Tessa's breakfast had helped somewhat, but after the brisk walk to campus she just felt empty now. Empty and slightly nauseous.

Clary bent her head down, focusing on the notebook in front of her as she attempted to compose herself. Why hadn't she thought to bring something to drink with her?

As if by divine intervention, she suddenly found a bottle of water to her left.

"Go on," he whispered to her. "Have some."

Her head snapped up a little too fast and her mind spun for a second, but it was definitely Jace who was sitting next to her now.

"Where did you come from?"

"I had something to take care of," he smirked. "I don't think Malcolm's noticed yet."

Sure enough, their eccentric professor was still darting across the stage as normal, completely oblivious to Jace's late entrance.

Having to look down made her feel woozy again and she clutched the side of her chair to steady herself. Jace nudged the water closer and she didn't think twice before unscrewing the cap and guzzling it down. She'd drunk almost half of it before she set the bottle back on the desk, wiping at her mouth.

"Thanks," she mumbled, colour rushing to her cheeks.

Jace merely chuckled at her.

"It's okay, I had a feeling you might be worse for the wear this morning."

"Right…" She concentrated on inhaling and exhaling as the awkwardness scale suddenly got ramped up. He was so casual when he mentioned it that she almost believed all of her fears had been for nothing at all, but then she caught that look in his eye and knew he was hiding something.

Later, she told herself. She'd have to talk to him later. Her stomach was fragile enough already and she didn't feel like puking up her guts in front of all her classmates. Jace seemed to take the hint and didn't say another word to her until the lecture was over and the theatre had been vacated.

"Something wrong, you two?" Malcolm called up, about to dim the lights when he suddenly noticed they were still there.

"Nothing, Sir," Jace called down. "Clary just wanted some help with the assignment so I thought I'd stay behind and explain it to her." She resisted the urge to roll her eyes at that.

"Anything I can help with?"

"It's okay, Sir. We wouldn't want to keep you. I've got it covered."

"Of course you do," Malcolm laughed, wagging his finger at him. "Just don't go getting any ideas about taking my job, Mr Herondale."

"I wouldn't dream of it, Professor," Jace grinned back and then Malcolm winked before leaving them completely alone.

The two of them sat facing the front, waiting until the sounds of his footsteps had retreated down the hallway.

Jace cleared his throat.

"Before you say anything," Clary interrupted, forcing herself to look at him. "Just answer me this - am I going to regret what I'm about to hear?"

Jace shifted uneasily. "You really don't remember a thing?"

"Not after you left me in the kitchen."

"Seriously?" His eyebrows flew up. "Nothing _at all?"_

"I don't like the way you're saying that…" Clary cringed, imagining the worst. What on earth had she done last night? "Fine, just say yes or no. Were you drunk too?"

"No," he shook his head, completely earnest. Okay, that was good.

"Did you take me home?"

"Yes."

"Did we go back to my room?"

He took longer to reply this time, but he answered in the affirmative.

"Did we…" Her voice faltered and she knew how pitiful she must have looked when she stared at him.

"No," he said and she slumped against the back of her chair in relief. Sweet, sweet relief. "At least," he added after a moment. "Not _that._"

"What do you mean 'at least'?" She raised her eyes to him slowly, her heart freezing in her chest. This was what she'd been dreading to hear. She already had a pretty good idea that they hadn't gone all the way last night, but it was the rest of it that she wasn't sure of. All of her worst nightmares seemed to come to life as he frowned at her, his body tense.

"Just…don't freak out, okay?"

"What?" Her voice rose a couple of octaves as she turned to face him. "You can't say something like that and then expect me not to freak out!"

Jace winced at her tone. "It really wasn't that big of a deal."

"Obviously it is or you wouldn't be telling me not to freak out!"

"Clary, calm down or I'm not telling you."

"Fine!" She snapped, closing her eyes as she took deep breaths. She was much quieter when she spoke again, trained on Jace's golden gaze. "Fine. Just tell me."

She heard him inhale, the air stilling around them.

"You kissed me, Clary," Jace whispered and she felt herself shatter inside. Clary buried her head in her hands, her elbows hitting the desk painfully.

"Oh god," she groaned. "No. Oh god."

"It was really brief," he said, trying to pry her hands away from her face. "Like, literally a second. I stopped it as soon as I could." She didn't doubt he was telling the truth, but it didn't stop the mortification that poured through her. What must he have been thinking? Hell, what was _she_ thinking!?

"What did I do?" She mumbled, her voice muffled by her hands. "What did I do afterwards?"

"You took off your dress."

The sound Clary let out at that was completely unintelligible. She curled up on the seat, her head on her knees, that high-pitched keening rocking her body.

"And then?" She thought she should probably stop asking, but some masochistic part of her wanted to know all of it. Know whatever she'd done and burn in the shame of it all.

"Then you fell asleep," he laughed. "You said 'suit yourself, Blondie,' then something like 'wait till Valentine's' and then you passed out."

Clary was past words yet again, her cheeks burning. It could have been worse, she knew that. It could have been _so_ much worse, but she'd still kissed him and that's what upset her the most.

They'd had their first kiss, something she'd been dreaming about – sleep was the only time she wasn't aware of being mad at him – and yet she couldn't remember it. After the spectacle she'd made of herself, she didn't think she'd ever get the chance again.

"Hey," he nudged her after a while. "You okay?"

"Nope."

"It's nothing to be embarrassed at. Okay, fine," he added after she snorted at him. "Nothing to be _that_ embarrassed at. I've said and done far worse when I've been intoxicated. All I'm going to say is, Bristol high street and completely starkers."

"Seriously?" Clary asked, despite herself.

"That's not even the best part. Someone took pictures and sent them to my grandmother."

"Wow."

"Exactly." He tugged at her hands again, trying to get her to look at him. She tried to resist but eventually he managed to wrestle her fingers from her eyes. Jace grinned at her. "See, not so bad, right?"

"Only by your definition of bad."

"Fair point," he shrugged. "But for what it's worth, I think you handled yourself rather gracefully."

"Really?" Her voice dripped with sarcasm. "Did I now?"

"Yeah, you really did. Most girls throw epic tantrums when I turn them down. You did strip, but then you fell asleep. It could have been a lot worse."

"I suppose."

"So why are you actually upset?" Jace cocked his head, fixing her with those brilliant eyes. She tried to turn away but her wrists were still manacled within his hands, holding her to him. "And don't lie to me this time."

He was talking about their fight in the bookstore. She'd told him that she had no feelings for him whatsoever but obviously last night had effectively disproven that.

Clary took a deep breath before she told him the truth. "Because I can't remember it," she whispered. "I can't remember."

He nodded in understanding, seeming to know exactly which part she was talking about. Of course she wouldn't want to remember the stripping or the falling asleep in front of him. There was only one thing she wished she hadn't forgotten.

"Then remember this," he said and before she could protest, he'd pulled her towards him and pressed his lips to hers.

And just like that she was melting.

His lips were soft, so unbearably soft and once she'd overcome the shock of what was happening she leaned into the kiss, relishing the feel of him against her. He released her wrists and let her wrap her arms around his neck, moving his own hands to her waist. Closer. They had to get closer. She was breathless and she could tell Jace was starting to lose his own semblance of control but still they sat there, wrapped up in each other as if the rest of the world had faded away leaving nothing but them. Nothing but that kiss.

And _oh_, was it glorious.

All traces of the haze that was upon her mind this morning had disappeared and she suddenly felt as if she'd never been more awake. Coffee and toast had been a decent remedy for her hangover at the time, but Jace was something else altogether. She realised he must have been telling the truth because there was no way their kiss last night could have been anything but fleeting and for her _not_ to have remembered it. She didn't think it was even possible to forget the taste of him. Mint and apple and something else, something entirely _Jace._

His cheeks were flushed when they finally pulled apart, his eyes wide and shining and Clary found herself struggling to breathe yet again. Perhaps even more so.

But their small moment of bliss could only last for so long because then he asked her: "So what's all this about Valentine's Day?"

* * *

**Well, bonjour to the Clace. **

**For now.**

**Was that how you expected it to be? The last cliffhanger definitely irked a lot of you and I kind of had to hold back from unleashing a manic, evil laugh anytime someone made a threat about one of the possibilities. **

**So she _did_ fall asleep, but not straight away. I guess the main point I wanted to make was that people definitely overestimate their ability to drink and I've seen crazy scenarios in fics where the protagonist downs like three bottles of vodka and only _then_ begins to feel the effects of it. Clary's pretty tame as far as freshers go - I've seen awful things in my time (happen to other people, of course) - but I've also seen people fall asleep after just one glass of wine, so it's definitely possible. And the whole drinking water in between thing to get rid of a hangover is a myth. It can lessen the effects, but some people just don't metabolise the alcohol well enough in the first place. So basically, be responsible. Jace not being a complete arsehole also helped somewhat. Not everyone will be so friendly.**

**Also while we're on a serious note, there's a hoax account called Champ1gnon that's been messaging some people, so if you get something from them - IGNORE it. Add them to your blocked users list just in case too and spread the word if you're an author yourself.**

**Finally, to end on something nicer, I moved back into my flat last week and found out WE HAVE NEW NEIGHBOURS! I haven't met them yet - though I intend on fixing that soon - and don't know much other than they like to play music at night with a pretty loud bass, but I have to admit, every time I've walked past their door I've sort of been like...what if? Obviously I'm sad to see the others go, but the possibilities are just too great. This fic is ruining my life. I'll keep you guys updated on the whole thing ;)**

**Till the next time...**

**smim xx**


	11. Suspicions

**Hey guys! Hope you've all had a good week :) I just finished watching Doctor Who and was very pleased that the episode was set in Bristol - the place Jace and Jonathan went to university in this fic - so there were some good old West Country accents in there! For those of you who were asking, Will mentioned that the Herondales moved to Salisbury which is also in the west, so yes, I do imagine them with a similar accent. Only a very slight one though. Not quite 'The Shire' level because the girls probably wouldn't take them very seriously in that case :P Obviously if that's the sort of thing that gets you hot under the collar then imagine away.**

**Anyway, I'm glad that you all enjoyed the last chapter! Things will definitely be heating up between the pairings now. I probably shouldn't have mentioned the twist though because everyone just started reading into everything, so all I'm going to say is: just sit back and enjoy the ride. There's still a while before it comes to fruition, so put it out of your mind for now. Chill, my friends. Onwards...**

**Disclaimer: I do not own TMI, TID or any of their characters, but Pot Noodles are rad.**

* * *

_**A Tale Of Two…**_

**11. Suspicions**

_31__st__ January_

Tessa felt as light as air as she buzzed around the kitchen, humming to herself while she dusted the tops of the cabinets. She'd had another good day at university, an unusually quiet shift with Jessamine – the girl had barely spoken a word, much to Tessa's horror and delight - and now she was giving herself time to unwind for the evening. The clockwork angel was a welcome weight around her neck, a sign of her triumph against Six-Fingered Nigel, and more importantly, her triumph against Jem. His own green pendant was safely tucked away in her jewellery box, a reminder of the time that they'd spent together, but no longer the burden that it had become. Tessa hated to admit it but Will had been right. She'd needed to let go.

By not wearing Jem's necklace it didn't mean she had to forget him completely, but it was definitely the final step towards standing on her own two feet. She'd realised that holding onto the necklace had become a nervous habit more than anything, something that hadn't changed once she'd replaced it with her dazzling new chain. But now, instead of thinking of Jem every time she retreated within herself, she thought of nothing. She held onto the angel and knew that she needed absolutely no one but herself. Of course, she hadn't divulged the exact details of how she'd acquired it to Clary – there was no way she'd hear the end of it – but she was pleased that events had unfolded the way that they had. Will may have struck the initial deal, but Tessa had won the necklace all by herself.

Just the way it should have been.

"Tessa?" Clary looked up from her phone, lounging across the new sofa they'd moved into the kitchen. It always was big enough to be a kitchen diner, but Tessa had made the decision to convert it for good after she'd found Clary sprawled out in the living room that day. She said she preferred to have her where she could keep an eye on her, though really, she just wanted her to be as far away from the TV as possible. Clary had gone so far as to Google what had become of Edith after Tessa had dragged her away from Deal Or No Deal and was only at peace once she found out that yes, she had indeed managed to afford a loft conversion.

"Yes?" Tessa said, climbing onto the counter so she could better reach behind the cupboards.

"Is everything okay with you?"

Clary sounded so wary that Tessa had to look over her shoulder. "Of course it is, why do you ask?"

"You just seem overly…cheery, that's all."

"Shouldn't I be?"

"No," Clary shook her head. "It's a good thing. I'm glad to see you've moved on."

"Moved on?"

"From Jem. That's why you took off his necklace, right?"

"Right…" She mumbled, returning to her dusting. Had she moved on? She definitely found herself thinking about him less and less these days and whenever he did happen to stray into her thoughts, he was no longer accompanied by that feeling of despair and bitterness. She'd finally made her peace with his decision. Did that mean she'd moved on?

Yes, it probably did.

Tessa smiled to herself.

"So…" Clary added. "Is there anything else you've changed your mind about?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know, the pact, maybe?"

"What?" Tessa swivelled again. Clary was keeping her features carefully composed. "Why would you say that?"

"No reason," Clary shrugged. "I just figured that if you didn't feel the same way about Jem anymore, you might not feel the same way about the pact. As in, you wouldn't mind dating again."

"Oh no," Tessa laughed, waving her off. "I'm definitely still with you on that one. Valentine's Day will be great with just the two of us."

She knew she hadn't answered the question completely, but Tessa was still firm on that point. Whether she was ready for romantic pursuits again was something she hadn't really considered, but there was definitely no one else she'd rather spend that day with.

"Mmhmm."

"Why, have _you_ changed your mind?"

"Of course not!" Clary sat up, suddenly on the defensive. "What makes you think I've changed my mind?"

"Nothing…" Tessa narrowed her eyes, but focussed once again on her cleaning. "I thought maybe you'd brought it up because you were unsure."

"I'm not unsure. Not at all! I'm one hundred percent on board. If anything, I was thinking of maybe extending the pact even longer."

"Really? How long?"

"It doesn't matter. We can't really change it anyway. That was a pretty sacred ritual."

"I guess it was," Tessa snorted. "I let you handle open flames and everything."

"Exactly, it's best not to change it. I'm glad we got that all cleared up."

"Yes, me too." But Tessa had a feeling there was something on her mind. Even though it'd only been five months since they met, living with Clary had meant that she'd gotten to know her as if they'd known each other for five _years_. Maybe even longer. She'd come to notice Clary's giveaways for her various mood swings, her likes and dislikes, what films would make her cry and which food they could never bring into the house for fear of her devouring it within seconds.

With all that, she'd also come to notice when she was hiding something.

And Tessa was going to find out what it was.

-o-O-o-

"Jonathan!" Jace banged on the bathroom door. "Dude, what the hell are you doing in there? It's been _two hours!"_

"In a minute!" His flatmate yelled back, his voice as clear as day. At least that meant he was finally out of the shower.

"That's what you said two hours ago," Will groaned, leaning against the door.

"I lied two hours ago." Then the door opened and Jonathan emerged, completely over-dressed for a night in. Will caught himself on the threshold just before falling over. His white-blonde hair was perfectly coifed, swept back and combed through, totally in contrast to the black button-up shirt he wore, complete with sword-shaped cufflinks, blood red tie and smart suit trousers. "This time I was telling the truth."

"What are you wearing?" Jace's mouth fell open.

"Clothes," Jonathan shrugged, pushing his way through the two of them. There was a slight reddish tint to his cheeks.

"No, Jon. _We're_ wearing clothes. You're wearing a peacock."

"What the hell's a peacock?"

"That cheeky little ensemble of yours," Will straightened up, gesturing at his attire. "The mating call in sartorial form. You're going on a date."

"I am not."

"Who's the unlucky girl?" Jace spread his arms to block the hallway, preventing Jonathan's escape.

"There is no girl." Jonathan turned on his heel to return to his bedroom but Will stood on the other side.

"Alright," Will grinned. "Who's the unlucky boy?"

"There is no boy! Oh my god, will you two just leave me alone!?"

"Jonathan, you've been very much alone for the past two hours while you were grooming yourself. As the responsible adult in this household, I demand to know where you're going tonight."

"Responsible," Jace snorted. "Sure."

"Shut up, I'm the oldest. So, Jonny, where are you off to?"

"It's nothing major," Jonathan said, but he was avoiding both of their gazes.

"Wait, is this like…a group thing?"

"You dirty little bastard," Jace smirked, poking Jonathan.

"No!" He shook them both off. "It's not a group thing. It's just a thing, okay? Just me and one other person."

"Ah, so there _is_ another person…"

"Oh for goodness' sake, it's business, alright?! I was talking to the guy downstairs, De Quincey, and he's got a friend who has some property to let. It could be a potential location for our new tattoo parlour."

"Then why did you have to get all tarted up for it?"

"I'm _not_ tarted up," Jonathan fumed, smoothing back his hair. "I just want to make a good impression, that's all. His friend might be there too."

"Is his friend a woman?"

"Does it matter?"

"Will," Jace looked to his brother. "Does it matter?"

"Of course it matters," Will nodded solemnly.

"Then I'm not telling you." Jonathan shoved Jace out of the way and made for the door. "I'm going to be late."

"Fine, but be safe!" Will called after him, holding back laughter. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do. And remember, it's _okay to say no._"

Jonathan flipped his middle finger up at the two of them before he slammed the front door and they both collapsed onto the floor.

"Well," Will said as soon as they'd managed to catch their breath. "At least someone in this house might be getting laid."

"Yeah," Jace sighed. "Props to him. I have to wait at least another fortnight."

"Another fortnight? Why so specific?"

So Jace told him all about the pact that Clary had made with her flatmate. She'd clued him in on their pledge to abstain from all romantic endeavours until Valentine's Day yesterday, shortly after he'd kissed her. It was incredibly irritating and though it was to his advantage that this Raphael guy had broken up with her, her reaction to it wasn't doing him any favours. Still, he promised her he'd stick it out until then. He told himself that it would just be too much hassle trying to find another girl this late on, so as long as Clary didn't change her mind, they could make it work. And besides, it wasn't like his grandmother would know the exact details of their relationship. He and Will had figured out that she was using Cecily as her spy – since she never usually bothered to talk to them more than once a month, the bi-weekly phone calls had tipped them off – so they were being very careful with what they told their younger sister, having planned out exactly what they were going to say before each conversation. He'd already mentioned Clary to her in passing, so as long as he kept slipping her in every now and then, he was sure Cecily would eventually report back about her. If Imogen demanded to see some proof, then it shouldn't be anytime soon, especially if this was going to be a long-term relationship. He hoped that the fortnight would already be over before he had to deal with that sort of stuff.

Will sat deep in thought once he'd finished explaining everything and Jace was wrapped up in his own head, reflecting on recent events.

The kiss, in particular. Or rather, _kisses_, though the first one could hardly be called that. Clary had completely taken him by surprise that night as she'd grabbed hold of him and crushed her lips to his, but it'd taken him even less time to come to his senses and gently push her away. From her earlier provocations, he knew what she wanted from him so he'd already mentally rehearsed the speech he'd give her; the speech about being responsible and taking things slowly. As it happened, he hadn't had to say very much at all because after taking her dress off – something else that had taken him by surprise, but luckily her blanket still mostly covered her – she'd fallen asleep. Jace had managed to get out of the flat and slip into his own just before he heard the voices of his brother and Tessa making their way back up the stairs, his heart thumping in his chest.

He'd had another speech prepared for the next day, but Will had given him a pep talk as they left their flat together and told him that it was time to stop messing around. The whole point of the exercise was to end up with Clary, not to push her away for good. Now that she'd clearly indicated her interest, Will told him that it was time to lose the indifferent attitude and close the deal.

And that's what he'd done.

Granted, he'd managed to lose control yet again and had let the kiss go on for much longer than he'd intended it to – a detail he'd kept from his brother – but in the end, it had worked. Though Clary said that they'd have to wait until she'd fulfilled her pact with Tessa to go any further, Will's crazy method had actually worked. He now had a doting future-girlfriend to claim as his own.

"How are things on your end?" Jace asked Will, wondering how his own tactics had been doing for his brother.

"Oh, perfect," Will said. "I think we're in a good place. But I was thinking about what you said about the girls, actually. Unlike you and Clary, Tessa and I spend the majority of our time _talking_, but she's never mentioned the pact to me. Not even after she told me about her ex."

"Well, you said yourself that she doesn't like talking about that sort of stuff. Maybe she was too shy. If she told you about it, she'd practically be giving you an invitation. Wait two weeks and I'm all yours." That was effectively what Clary had said, though she hadn't specified the exact way in which she'd be his. She said that she still had some things she wanted to work through and he admitted he hadn't given her many reasons to want to be with him so far, so the two-week delay would do them both some good. Once it was over, then they could go about figuring out what there was between them.

"Maybe," Will pursed his lips. "I guess we'll find out."

"Yeah, we will." Jace pushed himself off the floor and swatted Will in the head. "Now stop moping and make me some dinner, oh Ancient One. If I pass out from starvation it's all on your head, remember?"

"I could find other ways to make you pass out, you little shit," Will growled, slapping his hand away, but he began to smile. "Fine, pot noodles it is. Marinated in boiling water, garnished with packet flavour and served à la fork. How does that sound to you?"

"Like the feast of the gods, brother. The feast of the gods."

-o-O-o-

Clary groaned, throwing a pillow at the floor in frustration. Night had already fallen and she was with Tessa on their kitchen sofa, both of them sitting in silence. Tessa had her head in a book as usual and Clary was playing Temple Run on her phone, but their chilled hangout session had been ruined by the raucous the boys were making below. They'd started with blaring some deathcore metal and now it sounded as if they were having some sort of food fight. Either that or a drinking game by the random whoops of delight and choked laughter. Every time they cheered she managed to hit a tree – in her game – and this time she'd almost beaten her high score before they started up again and she fell down the next hole.

"I'm going to kill them," she seethed, sitting up. "How can you stand this?"

"Hmm?" Tessa looked up from her book. "Sorry, what was that?"

Clary rolled her eyes. She might as well have been in a world of her own.

"I said I'm going to kill the boys downstairs."

"Oh, that's nice," Tessa smiled before returning to her book. "Make it painful for Will."

"So you're not coming?"

"Pardon?" She glanced up again, completely dazed.

"Never mind." Clary pulled on her slippers and grabbed her hoodie, making for the door. She was about to reach for the handle when the heavens erupted.

Water sprayed out all over her as the fire alarm screeched above them and Tessa finally jumped up.

"No!" She shrieked, tucking her book under her shirt to protect it from the drenching. "Damn you, Hodge!"

Her overprotective uncle had gone above and beyond when it came to installing safety measures in the building.

"Forget Hodge!" Clary kicked the door open. "This is _their _fault!" She leaned over the banister and found Jace and Will running into the hallway, water dripping down their faces.

Jace looked up sheepishly while Will just grinned. "Clary, isn't it? I'm glad we could finally meet."

Tessa emerged from the flat next, clutching a set of house keys as she urged Clary down the stairs. "What did you idiots do now? My uncle is going to kill us!"

"We may have gotten a little carried away," Will bit his lip, cowering under the intensity of her glare. "It was just a slight error of judgement that's all, exacerbated by the effects of liquor. It's okay though, we've got it under control."

"_This _is under control?" She pointed at the water sprinklers and tried to move past Will. "What did you do?"

"It's really nothing," he said, blocking her way. "And besides, we've already put it out. It's just the smoke now."

"Then let me see."

"I can't, you might die," Will shook his head gravely. "Smoke inhalation and all that."

"For goodness' sake William, just tell me what happened!"

"Will blew up the microwave," Jace said plainly.

"I did not! You were the one who left the fork in the pot noodles!" Will smacked him across the head. "And I thought we agreed not to tell, you traitorous little twat!"

"I'm the younger one," he held his hands up, moving behind Tessa. "What do I know?"

"It doesn't matter!" Tessa fumed. "Hodge is still going to kill us! Now let me have a look and see if there's a way we can hide it."

"I can't let you do that, Tess." Then he wrapped his arms around Tessa to restrain her and hissed at Jace. "Hide it, now."

Jace dodged past them to pull the door shut as Tessa writhed in Will's embrace.

"How bad is it?" Clary gasped, trying to get a look before her view of the room was cut off, but Jace was far too tall for her to see anything. All she saw was a great deal of smoke before the door shut on her.

"Stuff Hodge," Tessa shrieked. "_I_ am going to kill you."

"Later, my dear," Will flashed her a grin. He hesitated, then leant down and threw her over his shoulder in one swift move. Tessa screamed with rage. "For now we must leave."

Even Jace couldn't hide his surprise at that, but Clary was absolutely flabbergasted. No one dared touch Tessa like that. _No one._ Not even Jem. Did Will have a death wish? And plus, she should've have already bitten his head off for trying to hold her like he did earlier or even having the audacity to call her Tess. Tessa was the only nickname she ever allowed people to call her and even Clary had been given an earful when she'd suggested others. She started to suspect that these 'various brief meetings' Tessa had claimed she had with Will were less brief than her flatmate had led her to believe. After all, she had gotten incredibly defensive when Clary had asked what they were doing in the storage room that day at the bookstore. Was something going on between the two of them? The way they argued, it was if they'd been married for decades already.

"Put me down, Herondale! Put me down right now!"

"I'm sure you've read the fire safety instructions, Tess. We've all got to go outside until Hodge sends someone from maintenance to turn this bloody thing off." Will struggled to keep a hold of Tessa but he somehow managed to start moving down the stairs. "You're being a danger to yourself so I'm not letting you go until we're safe. Now everyone get moving."

Jace gestured for Clary to go in front of him, still being careful to guard the door to their flat, and the two of them trudged down the staircase after Will and the now resigned Tessa. Clary caught Jace wink at her when he thought the other two weren't looking, but the flirty expression left his face the moment she glared at him. To think she'd actually been trying to buy them some time earlier!

Maybe they should've extended the pact after all.

"Wait!" Clary froze, glancing back up the stairs. "Where's Jonathan!?"

"He's out," Jace rolled his eyes, but there was a sharp edge to his voice. "Keep going." She realised that the two of them hadn't actually discussed what he'd seen in the kitchen the other day. Well, they'd have to talk about it eventually. It wouldn't do to have him living with her brother and not know about it, just in case something slipped out. Jonathan wasn't the protective type – in fact, he probably couldn't care less what Clary was up to – but she didn't want to take any chances. Jace was just as unpredictable.

When they emerged outside, the situation was no better. It hadn't started raining yet, but the air had that clogged, musky feel to it that suggested they could expect an imminent downpour. Alec and Magnus were already waiting by the end of the pathway, fluffy slippers and all.

Magnus's eyes bulged at the sight of Tessa slumped over Will's shoulder, using her elbows to prop herself up on his back.

"So," he said, shaking a leaf off his silky dressing gown. "Who do I have to thank for interrupting our night in?"

"Him," Clary and Jace said at once, pointing to Will.

"Great, throw me to the wolves why don't you…" He pouted, but held his hands out as best as he could. "It wouldn't be wise to attack me while I'm holding the lady."

"Then _put down_ the lady!" Tessa huffed.

"It's fine," Magnus waved him off. "I do not lower myself to violent acts."

"Okay," Will said warily, setting her down on the ground ever so slowly. As soon as Tessa's feet touched the path he jumped backwards.

"But I do," she growled, shoving him roughly. "Do that again William and I'll see to it that you have no shoulder left."

He didn't apologise, though. After all that, he actually had the audacity to wink at her.

Clary raised her eyebrows, once again wondering what on earth she was missing.

"Maintenance is late," Alec said, managing to diffuse the tension. He glanced down at his watch. "Five minutes is the expected emergency response time."

"Maintenance isn't the fire brigade, Alexander," Magnus smiled fondly at him. "If there was a real emergency, those are the ones who'd already be here. We might be waiting a while for Hodge's men to show up."

"Well, at least the sprinklers seem to have stopped," Jace noted, cocking his head towards the building. "Maybe we can go back inside?"

"Absolutely not," Tessa shook her head. "Protocol is that we wait here at the emergency point. Since _you_ were so keen to point that out to me," she directed her words at Will, "we're not going anywhere."

"I'm with Tessa," Alec nodded, folding his arms across his chest. "No one's entering the building until we're sure it's secure. Maybe the cold will knock some sense into you."

"Wow," Will laughed. "You two are just a bundle of fun, aren't you? I don't suppose you're related by any chance?"

Alec reached out to pull Tessa back, sensing she was at breaking point. "Ignore him."

Clary saw her making a conscious effort to calm herself, her hand reaching for her neck as it usually did. Except her necklace wasn't there.

"No!" She gasped, patting her top. "Where did it go?" Tessa jogged up the pavement, her eyes flicking back and forth frantically.

"What is it?" Will grabbed her hand to stop her from running back into the house.

"The angel," she said, panicked. "It must have fallen off when you picked me up."

"Stay here," he said, nudging her towards Clary. There was no trace of amusement in him this time. "I'll go and get it."

Clary linked her arm with Tessa's to keep her in place more than for comfort as Will re-entered the house and disappeared up the stairs. "It's okay," she murmured to her friend. "He'll find it."

Tessa could only nod.

Will surfaced just a minute later, the necklace dangling from his hand. He handed it to her without a word and Tessa slipped it over her head, her body relaxing. The six of them stood in silence after that, arms wrapped around themselves to keep the cold out.

The car pulled up in the driveway just a few minutes later and one of the guys from maintenance stepped out, but he wasn't alone. Hodge Starkweather himself got out of the back seat and strolled towards them. Clary felt Tessa tense beside her.

"What happened?" He demanded of his niece, ignoring the rest of them. She opened her mouth to reply but he carried on speaking. "The alarm was triggered by Flat Three. Which of you live in Flat Three?"

"Err…" Jace held a hand up. "That'd be us, Sir. There was an electrical fault."

"The microwave exploded!" The maintenance man called from the second floor window. Everyone had been so surprised to see Hodge that they hadn't even noticed him slip past them.

"That doesn't sound like an electrical fault to me." He fixed the two boys with a glare. "What _really_ happened?"

Clary saw Will step forward, but Tessa got there faster.

"It was my fault, Uncle," she said, the rest of them stunned into silence. Will's jaw hit the floor. "I left a fork in the pot noodles."

"You?" Hodge was just as shocked, but then his horror turned into suspicion. "What were you doing in their flat?"

"Our microwave was err…occupied."

"Yeah," Clary nodded, thinking she'd help wherever she could with this. "I was using it to make Jacket Potato. They have to be in there for a while."

"And you couldn't have waited?" Back to Tessa.

"Well, I was really hungry," she insisted. "And our programme started exactly at ten so I wanted to make sure we'd be ready to eat together. I figured the boys wouldn't be using theirs, so I asked to borrow it."

"What programme would you want to be watching at ten o'clock at night?"

"Erm. Well…"

"BBC News At Ten," Clary butted in. It was probably better to say that than the normal sordid shows that were on after the watershed. Tessa's uncle would never believe she was interested in those. "We never miss it."

"Exactly," Tessa nodded vigorously. "We're very invested in current affairs. I couldn't bear to miss a second of it."

"Is that so?" Hodge arched an eyebrow, but Tessa kept her expression so serene that he didn't question it. He scolded her about being so careless but left it at that and waited in the car until the maintenance guy had given them the all-clear. If she were in his place, Clary didn't think she could have doubted her friend either. Tessa never lied. But the fact that she'd done it tonight to protect Will of all people – from her own uncle, no less – proved that Clary definitely _had _been missing something.

But not any more.

Whatever it took, Clary was going to find out the truth.

* * *

**Detective Fray and Detective Gray. I think they'd make a pretty decent duo. Well, if they were actually working together that is. **

**So this particular incident didn't happen in my own flat, but we had plenty of fire alarms go off during my first year of uni. Someone was always burning something. Being woken up at all hours of the night to trudge down the street in your pyjamas and slippers with the rest of your dorm was _not_ fun, but at least I was never the unfortunate soul who happened to be in the shower at the time and had to come out in nothing more than a towel... Such memories.**

**Anyway, thoug****hts? Musings? Hypotheses? Dinner plans? ****Talk to me, guys. Please. I'm lonely.**

**Till the next time...**

**smim xx**


	12. Morgensterns

**Hi guys! Sorry this is a little later than usual. I've been up to my eyeballs in work all weekend so I didn't get much time to write. Plus, trying to get some work done is that much harder when you have the neighbours from hell blasting (terrible) music at all times of the night.**

**Yeah, so that's one of the main things I wanted to update you on. I haven't met the guys who just moved in below us, but it's safe to say we aren't on great terms already. They've been here all of two weeks and yet they've had a ton of parties and this weekend they took it a step further and _removed their smoke alarm_ so that all of their friends could smoke _inside_ and stink up the entire house, whilst forgetting that our smoke alarm was very much intact and could easily have been set off and gaah...we've been incredibly pissed off with them. It got to the point where one of my flatmates had to go downstairs and tell them to shut up because it was 6am and their party was still going on. So yes, I'd have the Herondales over them any day. We retaliated by deciding to do all of our laundry really early because our washing machine makes quite the racket and blaring System Of A Down. That should cure their hangover. Blegh. In other news, our neighbours from two floors down (i.e. our equivalent of Alec and Magnus) have just moved out too - which is really sad because they were the first people we met when we moved in-, so new people are living there now as well. I sincerely hope they're better. **

**But yes anyway, on with the story. For those of you who have read BotB, you might quite like this chapter ;)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own TMI, TID or any of their characters, but I do have awful neighbours. **

* * *

_**A Tale Of Two…**_

**12. Morgensterns**

_31__st__ January [Part Two]_

An hour after the fire alarm had initially gone off, Tessa found herself sitting across the dining table from Will, Jace and Clary, all four of them holding steaming mugs of tea. Once Hodge had left the building and the offending microwave – or whatever remained of it – was removed, Alec and Magnus had returned to their flat, but the Herondales found that part of their kitchen had been cordoned off and the musty smoke had settled over the entire room.

After opening all of the windows to let some of the odour out, she resignedly invited the boys to spend the rest of the evening in their flat on the condition that they'd clear up the water from the sprinklers. Luckily, her uncle had only installed sprinklers in the hallway and kitchen, so the majority of their belongings had been spared a drenching. Both areas had floorboards instead of carpet and the dining table was wooden, so it hadn't taken Will and Jace too long to mop everything up. It was only the new sofa they'd just moved into the kitchen that had suffered, but she'd taken off the cover and was sure that after a good day or two of airing they could use it again.

The central heating did well to take most of the chill out of their bones, but she made them all some tea and handed them blankets anyway, her mothering instincts kicking in despite her attempts to stay angry at them.

Will sat wrapped up in a Winnie The Pooh one now, but if he had any snarky comments to make about it, he hadn't mentioned them to Tessa. He was learning, it seemed.

Thankfully, he also hadn't mentioned what had transpired earlier between them and Hodge. In all honesty, Tessa had no good reason as to why she'd taken the fall for him. She knew that if her uncle had suspected Will, it probably wouldn't have boded well for either of the boys and they might have had their contract cut short, but what did that matter to her? Shouldering the blame had no direct benefits for her whatsoever, unless she considered living next to the Herondales as a benefit.

Tessa shuddered.

No, it must have been just a spur-of-the-moment altruistic streak that had risen out of her. That was all. She'd give it no more thought than that.

"So," Jace set his mug down. "Anyone for a game of cards?"

"No!" Tessa shook her head, thinking back to the way she'd gambled with Nigel. "Not cards."

"Yeah," Will grinned, taking another sip of his tea. "You wouldn't want to go up against Tessa in cards. She'd slay you."

"Really?" Clary frowned at her. "I thought you didn't play cards, Tessa?"

That was another problem she had to deal with. Her own flatmate. Clary was looking far too deep into whatever had gone on between her and Will today – she'd noticed the way she was watching them earlier - so she'd have to do something to convince her she was wrong. Of course, she didn't know the full extent of how well the two of them had gotten to know each other, but thinking they were actually _together_ was definitely one conclusion too many. Tessa could have laughed. Her and Will. As if.

"I don't," she assured her friend, shooting Will a look. "I think our William here has inhaled a little bit too much smoke."

"Yeah," he nodded, smiling lazily. "That must be it."

"Alright, well what else do you guys normally do in the evenings?"

"Sleep," Clary shrugged.

"You're a fresher," Jace scoffed. "You can't seriously be telling me you go to bed before midnight."

"So what if she does?" Tessa stared him down. "Clary is a dedicated, conscientious student."

"Of course she is."

"Was that sarcasm, Jonathan?" She noticed the way Will was trying to hide his laughter as Jace shifted uncomfortably.

"No. I'm sure Clary is very hard-working."

"I should say so," she nodded, patting Clary on the back.

"Hey," the redhead stood up, her cheeks the same colour as her hair. "How about we watch a film? Yes? Film? Good." She left the room without waiting for the others to answer and after a moment of silence, Tessa and the boys decided to join her. Clary was sitting on the far end of the sofa in the living room, flipping channels.

Tessa saw Jace about to sit beside her, but she made sure she got there first. She wouldn't have him teasing her friend, not while they were under her roof. Will pushed Jace out of the way again, slipping next to Tessa, so the poor blonde was left sitting on the floor in front of them.

Tessa felt he probably deserved it.

It turned out there weren't any decent films on, so the foursome settled on watching one of Clary's recorded episodes of Deal Or No Deal. Tessa thought she might gouge her own eyes out if it weren't for Will and Jace's amusing commentary throughout. She had to give it to them, they were pretty entertaining. You'd have to be to make Deal Or No Deal seem like the height of comedy.

"No!" Will cried as the contestant, Dave, rejected the banker's offer. "You fool, Dave. You fool."

"I can't believe this," Jace nodded, throwing his hands up. "He's going to lose it all now, I bet. One pound in his box."

"Say goodbye to your pleasure cruise."

"Sandra's going to divorce you."

"You'll be lucky to see your kids at the weekends."

"Don't be ridiculous," Tessa rolled her eyes. "I'm sure his wife won't leave him just because he didn't take the four grand home."

"You'd be surprised," Clary grinned. "If I were Sandra, I would."

"You'd leave your husband just because he couldn't afford a pleasure cruise?"

"No," she rolled her eyes at Tessa. "I'd leave him for being stupid enough to have the money for a pleasure cruise and _then lose_ it. If he's poor in the first place, that doesn't matter. If it's within his grasp and he lets it go because of some misplaced act of machismo, that's when we'll have problems."

Neither Will nor Jace had anything to say to that. The two of them sat perfectly still, oddly quiet, until it came down to the last two boxes.

"I can't look," Will said, then to Tessa's utter horror, he buried his face in her neck. She stiffened, not wanting to make a deal out of it in case Clary noticed. She didn't need yet more reasons to doubt them.

_But what on earth was he doing?_

"One pound!" Jace whooped, giving Tessa the chance to push Will away. "Goodbye wifey, hello split assets."

Even Clary joined in with his morbid predictions for poor Dave's dismal future, but all Tessa could concentrate on was Will and the way he was still looking at her. She was suddenly far too aware of how close the two of them sat, legs and shoulders brushing. He was still wrapped up in his blanket and so was she, but somehow she could still feel the heat of him.

Just then someone knocked on the door and Tessa couldn't have shot up faster.

"I'll get it!" She squeaked, almost tripping over Jace's legs in her scrambled attempt to run out of the room. She thought she could hear Will's quiet laughter behind her.

Tessa threw her blanket over one arm and smoothed her clothes out, trying to assume some air of composure.

She opened the door to find a well-dressed young man with a shock of light blonde hair.

"Hello?" She raised her eyebrows.

"Err…hi…" He shuffled about nervously, trying to look past her. "Is Clary in?"

Tessa looked at him expectantly.

"Oh, sorry," he coughed. "I'm Jonathan."

"Ah!" She sighed, glad that he wasn't here to kill them all. He certainly had that suave serial killer sort of look. "Of course. I'm Tessa, her flatmate."

So this was the infamous Jonathan Morgenstern. She had to admit, she couldn't see any resemblance between the two siblings at all. Apart from the fact that they had the same green eyes, Jonathan was the very opposite of what she'd expected.

"So…" He coughed again, apparently not interested in making small talk.

"Right," she nodded, smiling awkwardly. "I'll just go get her." Tessa paused mid-stride. "Or would you like to come in?"

What was the protocol in this situation? Her upbringing urged her to invite him in, offer him tea, serve some biscuits. You know, all the good, proper things you should do for a guest. But Clary had said that she didn't want anyone knowing he was her brother and that he felt the same way. How could she uphold the necessary decorum without arousing suspicion?

"Who is it, Tess?" Will called from the other room and she could hear them start to move around.

"Is that..." Jonathan furrowed his brows, leaning forward to peer over her shoulder. "Will?"

Will threw the living room door opened, revealing all three of them. Clary hadn't moved but Jace was now sat beside her.

"Jon!" Will grinned, waving him forward. "Come on in."

"What are you guys doing here?" Jonathan walked straight past Tessa without so much as an 'excuse me.'

_Well then_.

Even worse, he still had his shoes on and was now tracking mud through the hallway.

Tessa let out a shriek, just before his feet touched the plush, _clean_ carpet of the lounge.

Jonathan froze.

"Your shoes," Will explained and Jonathan hastily apologised, kicking them off to the side. Tessa followed, cringing at all of the mess.

"It's okay," Will whispered to her, hovering by the doorway. "I'll clean it up."

"Thank you."

"So?" Jonathan stood in the centre of the room, hands on his hips. Clary jumped up. "What are you doing here?"

"There was a bit of an accident," Jace mumbled, looking sheepish. "Our kitchen is half gone."

"What!?"

"That's a bit of an exaggeration…" Will rolled his eyes.

"Not really," Jace insisted. "I mean, all we ever use is the kettle and the microwave. So with our good old Panasonic out of the picture, our kitchen really is half gone."

"But why are you _here?_" Jonathan looked pointedly at Clary this time, but no one but Tessa had noticed it. What would he think of his little sister being around his unruly flatmates? She hadn't thought it would be a problem until now.

"It smelt a bit," Jace shrugged. "So Tessa and Clary generously offered to have us for the evening."

Jonathan narrowed his eyes at that.

"Speaking of, how was your date?"

"You were on a date?" This was Clary, her mouth wide open.

"It wasn't a date! It was a business meeting."

"Right, with De Quincey…" Will waggled his eyebrows. Tessa gasped. Not because of the implication but because of her own absentmindedness. In all the drama that had followed after the fire alarm, she hadn't even realised that their reclusive basement-dweller wasn't at the assembly point. What if he'd been in danger?

How could they all have forgotten about poor Alexei?

Will looked over at her in concern but she shook her head at him.

"With De Quincey _and_ his friend," Jonathan huffed. "But forget all about that. The important thing is, we got it."

"We what?" Jace rose.

"We've got ourselves a venue."

"No way!" He reached forward to slap Jonathan on the back in that strange way males chose to show affection. "That's brilliant news, mate. How'd you manage that?"

"It wasn't that hard, really. She liked me so she gave it to me."

"I _bet_ she did," Will winked suggestively again. This time Jonathan grinned slyly back.

"Wait." Clary moved forward. "Who's _she_?"

-o-O-o-

Clary couldn't believe her luck when her brother walked into the flat. And by that, she obviously meant how bad it was.

It had been a very close affair back at Magnus's party, but she didn't think she'd have to face the prospect of Jonathan being in the same room as her future-boyfriend again any time soon. Especially since she still hadn't had a chance to explain the situation properly.

Said future-boyfriend was now looking at her very closely as she tried to tone down her outburst. She couldn't help that she'd been surprised at the idea of Jonathan with someone. It was _Jonathan_, for goodness' sake. Who'd want to willingly spend intimate time with him?

"I mean," Clary coughed, stepping backward. "Not that it really matters. Just. Erm…yeah, well done, Jon."

She looked to Jace, hoping her sudden show of indifference had pacified him somewhat.

He was still staring between the two of them

Apparently not, then.

"Can I have a word?" Jonathan asked her, cocking his head infinitesimally to the right.

"Yeah," she nodded, side-stepping Jace and his questioning glance. "Of course. We have lots of err…academic things to discuss. I have that book we were talking about the other day."

"What book?"

"You know!" Clary widened her eyes at Jonathan, urging him to play along as they left the living room. "The one about crocheting you really wanted to borrow from me."

"Clary, what the hell are y-"

"Shhh!" She hissed, shutting the kitchen door behind them. "I don't want them getting the wrong idea, you idiot!"

"Why would they get the wrong idea? I literally just confirmed I was out with another girl."

"Jon, are you blind or did you just happen to ignore the daggers Jace was shooting at us?"

"Jace wasn't shooting anything…" Jonathan scrunched his eyebrows in confusion, leaning back against the door.

"With his _eyes,_ Jonathan!" She huffed, throwing her hands up. "It's an expression."

"Okay, well here's an expression for you: Dad's coming."

Clary stiffened.

"I haven't heard that one before."

"He's coming," Jonathan continued, beginning to pace around the kitchen. "Tomorrow. Mum called me just now to warn me."

"Nope," Clary shook her head, refusing to believe him. "Still not getting it."

"Clary, I'm serious! He is _literally_ going to come up to London tomorrow."

"But why? Why would he do that?" She tried to keep the panic out of her voice as various nightmare scenarios flitted through her brain. Valentine Morgenstern within ten miles of Jace was just about the worst idea she'd ever heard.

"He found out I left Bristol."

"How!?"

Jonathan bit his lip. "I may have put down the deposit for the parlour venue with his debit card."

"You did what!?" How could he have been so stupid?

"I didn't have enough money in my account, okay? I'm living off of whatever I saved from last year's student loan and Jace's trust fund still hasn't come through, so I had no choice. They wanted the deposit straight away to seal the deal. I figured I'd use Dad's details for now and then sort something else out in the morning. How was I to know he was signed up to some special bank alert system that let him know the second the money was being wired out?"

"This is Valentine Morgenstern, we're talking about! How could you _not_ have known that?"

Their father was possibly the most paranoid human being in existence. He had CCTV cameras installed all around the house just to find out which neighbour's cat was leaving rodents on their driveway and last year, he'd gone so far as to hire a private investigator to discover why the postman kept delivering the wrong mail. He'd insisted it was some sort of greater political conspiracy.

"Fair point," Jonathan laughed, but the frantic way he kept running his hands through his hair showed just how panicked he was. "So what are we going to do?"

"We?" Clary loosed a breath. "Oh no, there's no _we_ in this. I'm staying out of it. You're the problem child here, not me."

"But I thought things were different now?" He frowned at her, his green eyes intense. "I thought we were in this together?"

"No!" She turned away from him, crossing her arms over her chest. "Don't you even dare try that on me. I have no sympathy for you at all. None whatsoever."

"Clary, I'm your one and only brother."

"I. Don't. Care."

"You'll never get another brother like me."

"Well, thank goodness for that."

She still refused to look at him.

"Please, Clary. He'll make me go home."

That stalled her somewhat. Before, the idea of Jonathan leaving would have been a miracle. She'd have her independence back and he'd take Jace with him. But now that things had changed between her and his best friend, she wasn't so sure that was what she wanted anymore.

Luckily, Jonathan spared her from swallowing her pride with his next proposition: "Fine, help me and you get a ten percent share in our first quarter's profits."

Clary spun round.

"I'm listening."

-o-O-o-

_1__st__ February_

Jonathan barely slept that night. Partly it was because the flat still smelled of smoke, but even if his room were as fragrant as a bunch of newly bought PS4s, his father's ashen face would still have kept him up.

Thank goodness he'd managed to get his sister on board, because if they'd left things the way they were, Valentine would have taken one look at their half-burnt bachelor pad and dragged his sorry arse all the way back to Canterbury, Kent.

Goodbye freedom. Goodbye nightlife. Goodbye Subways on every corner.

It was about the most horrific situation he could imagine.

Luckily, he'd come up with a plan. It took a bit more convincing in the form of having to raise Clary's share of the profits to ten point two-seven percent – it was a good thing she wasn't all that maths-savvy – but she'd agreed to let him swap over the items in their rooms so that they could pass off Clary's more sanitary flat as his own. Her flatmate Jessica or Timothy or whatever her name was, had been surprisingly cooperative. It was unlikely that Valentine would go so far as to snoop on the other bedrooms, so as long as Clary and Jonathan's possessions had been switched over, it was a solid plan.

Clary was the golden child anyway so even if their father was shocked at the state of the boys' kitchen, Jonathan doubted he'd do anything drastic about it. This was her first year away from home, after all. He'd cut her a bit of slack.

But if he was upset with Jonathan?

Well, then he'd cut off a lot more than that.

"Jonathan!" A frenzied knocking sounded at his door. Jace. "Jon, he's here!"

Jonathan jumped out of bed and threw his clothes on before Jace could even open the door. He smoothed down his hair and flew past the Herondale brothers.

"Get in position!" He yelled at them, hopping around as he tried to pull his shoes on. "I'll stall him as much as possible, but I won't be able to keep him forever. Make sure the girls are out of their flat." No one moved. "Now!"

His crazed expression finally spurred them into action, with Will running up to Flat Four while Jace made to hide anything incriminating that had been left out in the open. The only thing Valentine would have found worse than the state of their kitchen was the sight of boxers strewn about the floor. Especially if they were trying to convince him this was Clary's flat. Their old man would have a fit.

He'd explained the plan to the two of them once he was sure Tessa and Clary would take care of things on their end, though he'd been careful to leave out why he'd picked Clary's room in particular. Sometimes he felt it would probably be easier if he just came clean to his flatmates and told them that she was his sister, but he could never find the right time. It wouldn't have been as big of a deal if he'd disclosed their relationship right at the beginning, but now that they all seemed to be acquainted with each other, that complicated things. He _had_ noticed the way Jace had been looking at Clary yesterday and honestly? He wasn't sure how he felt about it.

Normally, it wouldn't have bothered him. Clary had her own life and he hadn't felt the need to meddle in it before. Okay, so the whole thing he'd pulled with Sebastian probably hadn't helped her all that much, but he'd never started those rumours. Not the original ones, at any rate. But this time, he _was_ in the know. He knew what Jace was doing. He knew about his grandmother's terms and how desperate he was to get his trust fund. If Clary was the one he'd chosen to help fulfil those terms, then Jace was outright using his sister.

The problem was, Jonathan was even more desperate for Jace to have access to his money again. The deposit and his charm had been enough for Camille Belcourt last night, but if they wanted to start up the business anytime soon, he knew he'd have to cough up the rest of the amount within the next few weeks. They had few options. His student loan had dried up and the money the two of them had managed to make from part-time jobs was all going towards their living costs. There was no way they could afford to keep renting out the London flat and save enough on the side for Camille's next down payment.

Jace's money was all they had left.

That left him in a bit of a pickle.

Did it really matter if Jace was using Clary, when all three of them would benefit in the end? Jace and Jon from their tattoo parlour, and Clary from her share of the profits.

Of course, he wasn't sure whether that would outweigh the heartbreak for her. Perhaps he should have raised it to twenty percent in good faith.

But there must have been more he could do…

Perhaps he should warn her not to get too attached or would that jeopardise everything?

He could pull the whole overprotective brother act and tell her to keep her distance. She wouldn't listen to him – he knew Clary well enough not to expect anything else - but at least he could tell himself he hadn't stayed silent. At least his own conscience would be clear.

_Ugh._

Was he the worst brother in the world?

That one he probably did know the answer to. _Yes._

Jonathan turned all of this over in his head as he trudged his way down the stairs, trying to take as long as he could before his father's silhouette became visible through the main front door.

"Dad!" Jonathan mustered the brightest smile he could manage, trying not to collapse under the pressure of his father's icy black gaze.

"Jonathan." Valentine's tone was clipped, formal. That could only mean that he was very, very angry. "Let me first tell you how surprising it is to find you on this side of the M25. And the M4. And every other motorway, river, A-road, B-road and dirt path that exists outside of Bristol."

"Yes," Jonathan said, though it sounded like he was choking. "This is different."

"I hope I did not wake you," his father continued, pushing past him. Well, so much for stalling. "The time difference must be confusing for you, since you're not normally living slap bang on the Prime Meridian."

"Actually, Dad, Bristol also follows Greenwich Mean Time. The whole country does."

"Of course, if you've been here long enough, I suppose you must have adjusted." Valentine seemed to have completely ignored him.

Jonathan didn't see any point in pressing the argument. He was sure his father had already prepared plenty of Bristol-related quips to taunt him with. He'd had all night and a two-hour drive to plan his mind games.

They carried on walking up the stairs and Jonathan prayed his friends had made the switch.

"This one?" Valentine asked, pausing at Flat Three.

"Nope," Jonathan shook his head, wiping at his forehead. "Top floor."

"I thought your sister lived on the top floor."

"No, she lives here."

"That's not what your mother told me."

"Mum probably meant me."

Valentine fixed him with a dark stare. "Are you contradicting my wife? The mother of my children? The one who carried you in her own womb for nine painful months and squeezed out your un-shapely head at the end of it? Tell me, Jonathan, are you _daring_ to say she's wrong?"

Jonathan touched his head alarmingly. "Of course not! Mum's always right. The truth is, I swapped with Clary on the day we moved in. I thought it would be safer for her to be…err, closer to the ground. You know…to…lessen the effect of gravity on her. She's very small."

_Kill me now._ Of all the things he could have said…

"Jonathan," Valentine rolled his eyes. "You are an idiot."

"I am?" _Shit,_ Jonathan cursed himself._ He's got me. I'm dead. I'm going to go back to Canterbury and I'm going to be bored and then I'm going to be dead._

"The force of gravity is more potent upon larger objects. For someone of her stature, the effect would be minimal."

Jonathan's mouth dropped open. Did his father really think so lowly of him? Did he think he was stupid enough that he would switch flats with Clary because of _gravity? _

Apparently, yes.

Valentine carried on up the stairs, not waiting for his response. He stopped outside the door to Flat Four and looked at his son expectantly.

"We'll see your sister afterwards. The keys, Jonathan?"

"Right," he stuttered. "The keys. Well, you see, I left them inside…"

"Foolish!" Valentine thundered. "A man never leaves the house without his keys. Though of course, you could hardly be called a man. A man also doesn't take from his father that which he has not asked permission for."

Jonathan flushed, his eyes on the ground. "I'm sorry Dad, I didn't-"

"Silence," Valentine held up his hand. "Jocelyn instructed me not to, in her words, 'get into this,' so we will not discuss your criminal activity. Not today, at least. Today, you show me what you left the shores of the West for and then I will decide whether you are to stay here. That is all."

"Sorry," he mumbled again. "My flatmates are inside, so if you want to knock then..."

Valentine didn't wait before pounding once on the door.

It clicked open before Jonathan had even had time to blink. The boys must have heard the commotion and been waiting.

Jace stood on the other end, Will close behind him.

"Hello," he said, extending a hand to Valentine. "I'm Jace, Jonathan's friend from Bristol. This is my brother, Will."

"I see." Valentine shook their hands reluctantly and walked into the corridor as the two of them parted for him. "So you are my son's living partners?"

"Err…yes."

"Tell me, were you aware that you were living with a criminal? Or are the two of you just as embroiled in his villainous plans?"

"Dad," Jonathan groaned.

"Just a joke!" Valentine laughed, but his eyes were cold. "We're not discussing that, remember? I am a man of my word."

He walked into the kitchen, wiping his finger across the counters as he went. It came away clean and he nodded.

"Well done, Tessa!" Jace whispered. Ah, so that was her name.

Valentine then inspected the rest of their appliances, going so far as to tip the toaster upside down to make sure no crumbs fell out. Once again, it was squeaky clean.

Clary's flatmate was good. Very good.

"Show me your bedroom," his father asked him, walking out of the kitchen without another word. It was better than he could have expected. Valentine rarely gave out praise, so his silence was enough to tell them he was impressed. The alternative was too scary to consider.

Jonathan kept his head down as they made their way down the corridor, stopping at Clary's bedroom door. She'd put up a piece of paper with Jonathan's name on it to cover up her own painted sign. He held his breath and opened the door, mindful of Valentine hovering just behind him.

Once again, the girls had done a good job. The items in the room were definitely Jonathan's, but they'd been arranged far neatly than anything he could ever have managed.

All except one thing.

Jonathan balked, his gaze falling on the pink, flowery duvet set that was draped across the bed. Since they'd slept in their own rooms for the night, they'd agreed to swap over the bedding in the morning. Jonathan had left in such a rush when Valentine pulled up in his car that he'd completely forgotten to take his duvet with him. Clary's set stood out in stark contrast to all of his band posters and action figurines. _Collectible_ action figurines.

Obviously he didn't actually play with them.

Obviously.

Valentine nudged him out of the way, apparently annoyed with the delay and his eyebrows raised as he looked upon the pink abomination.

"Well," he coughed. "This is certainly unexpected."

It was Jace who came to the rescue.

"Sorry!" His friend laughed, sidling up next to Jonathan. "That was actually my fault. I thought it would be funny to buy him a pink set for Christmas. He leaves it on to humour me."

"Exactly," Jonathan chuckled, trying not to pass out. "Just a bit of fun."

"I see." Valentine performed the same dust test on Jonathan's room, then moved onto the bathroom – luckily the girls had remembered to hide all of their sanitary products – and when he was satisfied it was clean, he nodded at the three of them. "Right, well. I've seen all I need to see. Your living conditions are quite satisfactory." Jonathan sighed with relief. "I must say, they're almost _too_ satisfactory, but I suppose that must be down to these chaps here. Your room at home isn't nearly this clean."

"No, it's not," Jonathan smiled tentatively. Could it really have been this easy?

"I will make sure I report all of this back to your mother and then we'll make a careful, considered decision as to what to do with you next. For now though, I will allow you to stay here."

"Dad, thank you so much…"

"No need to thank me," Valentine shook his head. "You can thank your mother for having placed so many restrictions upon what I was allowed to do and say today. Now, let's go and see Clary."

Jace stiffened beside him.

"C-Clary?" Jonathan arched an eyebrow. "I think she's out." He was about to ask him why it was necessary, but then he realised his father's answer would have something to do with the fact they shared blood. Probably.

"At this time of the morning?" His father frowned. "I made sure to come before lectures began."

"Yes, but she's probably in the library. She likes to get there extra early so she can revise her notes."

"Of course," he nodded, smiling for the first time. "Clarissa has always been a good student. But there's no harm in checking." Valentine headed for the door.

"Dad, I really don't think that's a good idea. We wouldn't want to disturb her." Jonathan's voice was edging on panic and he was only too aware of Jace beside him. He'd only just decided he wasn't going to say anything to him or Clary. They needed that trust fund.

If he found out…

"Nonsense!" Valentine swatted him in the shoulder. Then he said the words that would condemn everything: "How could I come all this way and not see your sister?"

Jonathan swore.

Valentine smacked him across the arm for using such foul language.

Then Jace gasped.

* * *

**Valentine, I love you! Valentine, I do! When we're apart my heart beats only for youuuuuu...**

**LET'S HEAR A COLLECTIVE 'SWITZERLAND' FOR VALENTINE YAY, OH HOW I HAVE MISSED HIM.**

**Also, yes, the sibling cat is out of the bag. A lot of you were saying how you hoped I had a good way planned for it, and really, how can you beat Valentine? And don't say Raziel because I will cry.**

**For those of you who haven't read BotB and are therefore unaware of my obsession with Valentine, well...it's a long story. It wasn't always this way, but I can barely remember the time when the elder Morgenstern did not have such a hold on my heart.**

**Anyway, let me know what you thought as always :) I should also let you know that I recently did an author interview with the lovely Kelpie from Kelpie's Korner so if you'd like to know more about my writing methods, inspiration and just general stuff from the recesses of my mind, the link is up on my profile. (thanks to the anon who read it yesterday and left the sweetest review, I love you)**

**Right, so I should get some sleep. Lots of work to do tomorrow and then I'm seeing my babies THE WORD ALIVE in the evening, so I'm ridiculously excited for that! Something interesting always happen every time I hang out with them (usually to do with Zack), so I have high hopes for tomorrow. **

**Till the next time...**

**smim xx**


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